You can run
by Ocean of Ashes
Summary: ... But you can't hide. Alex Karev has unexpectedly swept all before him in his career, or out-Cristina'd Cristina as Izzie likes to put it, but it's been an empty success. He needs a new start, and it isn't going to be in California. Alex and Addison
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm not a new writer on here, but this is the first time I've shown my face, so to speak, here in the Grey's Anatomy pages (I'm a disillusioned ER fan undergoing a slow process of conversion)

Author's Note: I'm not a new writer on here, but this is the first time I've shown my face, so to speak, here in the Grey's Anatomy pages (I'm a disillusioned ER fan undergoing a slow process of conversion). I've recently got into Grey's Anatomy, got struck by an inspirational bolt of light, so thought I'd give it a go at posting here. Please let me know what you think of the story, reviews are always appreciated.

Explanatory Note: This is primarily for the benefit of non UK readers. In the UK, a consultant, which is probably about the equivalent of a senior attending, is addressed as Mr/Mrs/Ms etc rather than Doctor. Great Ormond Street is also a real hospital, but as per the disclaimer, I am making use of the name only, and all it's connotations of excellence in paediatric medical care.

Disclaimer: Standard if-Grey's Anatomy-belonged-to-me-I-would-be-an-awful-lot-richer Disclaimer applies. Also, I have nothing to do with Great Ormond Street hospital, except admire it.

You can run…

Mr Alex Karev

Consultant of Neo-Natal Surgery

Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital, London

That's what his business card said. It also said the same thing on the ream of headed paper that was in the third drawer down of his new (mahogany) desk, and on the brass plaque screwed to the heavy wooden door to his new office. Although they still looked strange and unfamiliar to him, they were beginning, slowly, six weeks in, to sound a little more normal.

If you were to ask him, he thought, precisely how he ended up here, about as far away from Seattle as you could get without leaving the hemisphere, he wasn't sure he would be able to tell you.

In truth, he hadn't felt right, settled, for a very long time. He did sort of know when that lost feeling began, but he didn't like to attribute it to that time, that event, so he preferred to think of it as a gradual occurrence. The main, and most noticeable, symptom was work. As an intern, he'd been all for clocking in, clocking out, not staying at the hospital a minute longer than the end of his shift, but slowly, he found himself being drawn in. His apartment (he hadn't lasted at Meredith's madhouse for long) was cold, empty, lonely, and he found he preferred working more than sitting at home on his own.

He didn't realise quite how much of a workaholic he had become until he was appointed Chief Resident. To be considered harder working, a better choice, more dedicated, than _Cristina_, well. But instead of doing something about the empty feeling inside, he just filled it with more work. Occasionally he would go out, but only if the others made him.

He and Izzie had gotten back together for a time. It was nice while it lasted, but she didn't set his world on fire and he had relieved as much as anything else when she had told him that her heart wasn't in it either. They had settled on friends, and had become close. It was her to whom he had first admitted there was something wrong.

Typical Izzie had plunged in, straight to the point, one lunchtime in the cafeteria after she had realised he had been on shift for almost three days.

'Talk.'

He'd rolled his eyes. 'What now, Iz?'

'You've changed. You're different these days. In fact, you've been different for years really, compared to when we were interns, but I just thought you were actually growing up.'

'Had to happen sometime.' He had tried to deflect her with a wry smile, but he knew her well enough to be sure it wouldn't work. He just hoped she wouldn't pry too deeply.

'I heard the nurses saying you came on shift at four o'clock on Tuesday.'

'Hm, sounds about right,' he mumbled through a mouthful of fries, poking his fork at Izzie's fingers when she tried to steal one. 'Stop it. I'm too hungry to share. If you wanted fries, why did you order salad?'

She succeeded in pinching a couple of fries and withdrew her hand from the fork's range. 'Don't try to change the subject. You started working on Tuesday afternoon. It is now Friday. The Alex Karev I know, even the grown up one, does not work for three straight days.'

'It's been busy, I've had some important surgeries,' he shrugged.

'Bullshit. You've out-Cristina-d Cristina. In fact, you work so much these days that Cristina isn't even the benchmark anymore, it's you. What's wrong Alex, why are you doing this to yourself? You're an attending now, you're Chief of your department. You've got interns to do the work for you, and residents to make sure they're doing it right. You don't have to do everything.'

'I like it.'

Izzie had sighed deeply then, as if she realised she needed to come at the subject from a different angle. 'You need a girlfriend.'

He remembered her little smile of satisfaction as he actually put down his fork and started listening to her. 'No I don't.'

'Really? When was the last time you got laid?'

'Some things I'm not going to tell even you, Iz.'

'Okay, so when did you last take a girl out?'

He knew better than to answer. Izzie was just getting into her stride and interrupting her was never a good idea. These conversations worked better as monologues, with him providing the occasional nod or grunt when he felt she might be looking for a response.

'Have you even been out with someone since me?' Her questioning look told him that in this instance a response from him was required, so he offered her a brief shake of his head.

Then, just to shut her up before she really warmed up, he blurted out a thought that he hadn't completely realised he was having. 'I'm thinking of leaving.'

Her eyes widened in surprise, then her mouth went into overdrive. 'Oh my God, since when? Where are you thinking of moving? Why? When are you going?'

He groaned, regretting his impulsive statement already, but somehow feeling his resolve harden. 'It's only an idea Iz. But you're right, I'm not happy here, so why shouldn't I move somewhere else?'

'Where?'

'I haven't even thought about it yet.'

'California?' That was as close as she dared to go. Once, shortly after they'd had to decide on their specialties and he had nailed his Neo-Natal colours to the mast once and for all, Cristina had been trying to needle him, get a rise out of him for the hell of it, and he'd absolutely blown up at her. Right in the middle of the cafeteria, in front of everyone, lunch tray on the floor and the whole works. After that, not even Izzie had been brave enough to ask what exactly had happened.

'_Not _California. But I don't know, somewhere new. Different.'

Izzie had looked at him thoughtfully for a while, then smiled. 'I think it's a good idea.'

'You do?' he'd asked, surprised.

'You need a new start. Go and find one.'


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Author's Note: My computer seems to have an odd habit of double posting the first line of everything I write, so I apologise if you have to read this apology twice. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, feedback is always good to hear. Here's the next chapter for you, and I have to say, don't always expect them this quickly – I'm just trying to get you hooked you know, normally I'm a bit rubbish at the whole updating thing!

Disclaimer: As before

After his conversation with Izzie, he had found himself wanting to act on his impulsive decision to leave. That afternoon, in a brief lull between patients, he picked up a surgical journal and flicked through the appointments section for inspiration. Then something had jumped out at him. It sounded good, in fact, it sounded really good.

His next stop had been a conversation with Bailey, now Chief of Surgery.

'Alex, come in.' He'd felt the hint of a smile at the use of his first name. It had come for the first time when she'd called him in to inform him that he was being appointed Chief of Neo-Natal Surgery and it sounded weird even now, but he was getting used to it. She now expected him to call her Miranda in return and treated him almost as an equal. So did most of the other department heads, except Sloan of course. But then, he was an asshole by nature. An asshole who didn't like vanilla lattes.

He let himself into her office and took a seat. 'Thank you for finding the time to see me, I know you're busy.'

'Not a problem Alex. You said you wanted my advice about something?'

'Yes, Miranda, I did.' He paused, shifted in his seat nervously for a moment and fiddled with his stethoscope. 'I… I've seen a job that I'm interested in but I don't know if I'm qualified enough to go for it.'

Bailey had been surprised, but she only let it show for a second. 'What is it?' she asked, neatly sidestepping the more obvious question of why he wanted to leave. Although Miranda was pretty perceptive, maybe she knew the answer already.

'It's a Consultant of Neo-Natal Surgery position at a big paediatric hospital in London. I don't know exactly what sort of hierarchy they have over there; would I be qualified to go in at Consultant level? The size of the paycheck sort of implies it's a pretty senior position.'

Miranda pursed her lips and considered her answer. Alex Karev had been a revelation to her over eight years he had been at Seattle Grace, well, for the last seven of them anyway. In his early intern days, he had been nothing out of the ordinary, not in comparison to the likes of Yang and Stevens, but since he had been in Neo-Natal, he'd been a different doctor. Of course, he'd had a good teacher in the early days, but he had developed an extraordinary personal drive as well. She would never have guessed he'd had such dedication in him.

'Well, I'd be very disappointed to lose you from here Alex, but we'll talk about that in a minute. In reply to your question, certainly you're on the young side to be a consultant, but you're also on the young side to be a department chief and that hasn't stopped you, so I would say yes, you would be qualified.'

He remembered he had breathed a deep sigh of relief when she'd told him that. What had started as a vague inclination for a change of scene had swiftly blossomed into a real desire for, as Izzie put it, a new start and there was something about this job that, even in a three line advertisement, sounded _right_.

'Thank you Miranda. I'm really pleased to hear you say that.'

The older woman leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on her desk. It was frightening how much the look in her eyes mirrored Izzie's. What was it with interfering women? 'What's brought all this on, Alex? Are you not happy here?'

'In terms of my job, yes I am. I'm incredibly proud of what I've achieved here and I enjoy what I do. The fact that I'm only thirty three and a department chief is something that I appreciate a lot, and I don't know any other hospital would have given me that opportunity. But… I don't feel Seattle holds anything for me anymore.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.'

'I'm not sorry for it. If… I've spent my time here completely focused on my work and I wouldn't be where I am now otherwise. But I want more than that.'

'As your friend, I'm glad to hear that,' she'd replied. "Friend?", Alex thought dubiously, but it was nice to know he had her support. 'But as your superior, I'd like to say that although I know it's not about the money, I'm sure the board would be happy to negotiate something if it means keeping you here,' Bailey had offered.

He'd grinned, a lopsided smile that reminded Miranda of the intern he used to be before he'd turned into the exceptionally talented, but dangerously workaholic doctor he was now. And then she realised. He saw the moment in her eyes when she joined the dots and he knew then that she had sussed his reason for leaving. It was his reason for everything, although he would never admit it.

'You're right, it's not about the money,' he replied, 'but thank you for the offer. It's nice to know that I'm so appreciated.'

'You are Alex. You're a gifted physician.'

'So you think I have a shout at this job in London then?'

'Well, put it this way, if my reference has anything to do with it, you will do.'

He'd got up to leave then, and thanking her, had reached the door, thinking that was going to be it. Then, as if on cue…

'Are you sure about London?'

He turned, sighed. 'You too Miranda? I've already had this from Izzie.'

'Well perhaps if enough people say it, you might think about it. Your references would get you into any hospital you wanted, why don't you consider something…' Her train of speech petered out.

'Go on, at least say it to me.'

'Well, if that's the reason you're leaving, why London, why not California?'

'It was seven years ago. I need a new start, not to step back in time. That won't get me anywhere.' He had seen the doubtful look in her eyes. 'I mean it Miranda. I'm not going to California.'

'Not even to say goodbye.'

'No. Not even to say goodbye.'


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Author's Note: I know this story is a little slow to start, but that's kind of the idea – I go for the gradual build up style I'm afraid. But please stick with it, I know where this story is headed and I think it's a place you'll like. And please review and let me know what you think. Thank you to my faithful reviewer on the last chapter.

Disclaimer: As before.

He'd flown into London for the interview process in typically Seattle weather. Grey, rainy, overcast. He felt at home already.

From the airport, he took the train into the city. Checked into his hotel. Walked around, got a feel for London. It was bustling, but not in a stressful way, just full of life. He went to a few touristy spots, Trafalgar Square, the Houses of Parliament, but he didn't go in anywhere, he just wanted to soak up the atmosphere.

It didn't take him very long to decide he liked the place that he might, hopefully, be soon calling home. He'd never been further from the States than Canada before (which, let's face it, wasn't the hugest leap in the world from Seattle), and he felt rather adventurous in a way flying to London for a job interview. Very… cosmopolitan… or something along those lines anyway.

The hotel was quite nice, certainly better than a commuter-convenience pit stop. His room was large and airy, and there was a gym and health suite in the basement that looked tempting but it had been a long flight, even longer since he got up that morning, and he needed a whiskey, not a workout.

He made his way down to the bar, not intent on a session given how important tomorrow would be, but the couple of drinks to settle the nerves couldn't do any harm. He settled himself on a stool at a bar that was inarguably cleaner than Joe's but not upmarket enough to make him feel out of place.

The bartender was the chatty sort, very much like Joe in fact. He had that way that bartenders had about them, all knowing. He wondered how many people's lives they must have an insight into.

'What can I get you Sir?' He was slightly surprised to hear an American accent, vaguely East Coast somewhere, but diluted by distance from home. If he got this job and stayed in the UK, would his accent fade away to nothing as this man's was?

'Scotch thank you, no ice. Room 2012.' A glass was placed on the counter in front of him and Alex took a sip. Mm, he'd given him the good stuff, definitely tasted better now than it would on the bill when he checked out.

'So, what brings a fellow countryman across the pond then? Business or pleasure?' the man had asked.

'Business.' Alex wasn't being deliberately evasive, but he was more in the mood for a quiet drink than being subjected to psychoanalysis. Besides, if this guy was anything like Joe he'd be too damn accurate.

'Let me see, I'm usually good at this. You're a bit too scruffy to be some high flying businessman, that's normally the type we get in this place. We don't usually see much of the Hollywood set, they prefer somewhere a little higher profile. Besides, you don't have the starry look about you.' Alex chuckled, and allowed himself to be drawn into the conversation against his will. What harm could it do?

'You're not there yet,' he smiled.

The bartender gave him a triumphant smile. 'Twenty bucks says I'm about to be.'

'You're on.'

'You're an aid worker, probably a doctor, who's spent the last however many years doing innumerable good deeds in Africa or somewhere, but you're run out of money and are back and on the scrounge with the big businesses.'

Alex nodded slowly, impressed. The guy might not have hit the nail on his head, but he wasn't a million miles away. 'Not bad,' he conceded. 'Not good enough to take twenty bucks off me, but a pretty good shot.'

The bartender grinned widely and drew a crisp twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and pushed it across the bar. 'How close was I?'

'Close,' Alex said. 'I am a doctor, but I'm not nearly selfless enough for humanitarian work. I'm a surgeon, I'm over here for a job interview.'

'Long way to come for a job.'

There seemed to be another whiskey in front of him. 'Yeah, well, it's an amazing job.' Somehow, it sounded unconvincing, even to his own ears, even though he knew the job was fantastic. He drained the second glass, telling himself that he should be going a little steadier.

'She must be an amazing girl.' Alex looked had looked at him, a furrow of confusion across his brow, wondering if he'd heard him right.

'Sorry?'

'For you to be running this far.'

Alex looked at him sharply. Was it that obvious? Was loss and regret written all over his face or something? Did he reek of a broken heart? 'No,' he lied as casually as he could. 'There's no girl.' _Not technically a lie, _he reasoned, _Addison definitely wasn't a girl. She was all woman._

'Sure there's not,' the other man said knowingly. 'Why do you think I'm here?'

Alex laughed. There was nothing else he could do, except cry maybe, but he wasn't that screwed up. 'A lot of miles to run.'

'Technically I sailed. I'm from Cape Cod, always been into boats.'

'Was it far enough? Was it far enough to get away from her?' Somehow, he felt like he needed to know. He needed to know if he ever stood a chance of escaping from the prison that he had slowly but surely built for himself inside his head.

This time, it was the bartender's turn to look confused. 'What do you mean, get away from her? I was running _to _a girl.'

'Oh, sorry, I thought…'

'No problem mate. Running after her was the best thing I ever did.' As he wiped down the bar, Alex noticed the wedding band he wore, and visions of an unattainable happy ending flashed before him. 'Do you mind if I ask you something?'

'No, not at all.' This guy was too much like Joe to tell him it was none of his business. Joe had been a witness to enough of his end of double-shift drinking sessions to know the score.

'You're obviously crazy about her. If she isn't in London, what are you doing here?'

'Because…' _Because I'm scared. Because it's been seven years, and I'm still fucking scared. _'Because it really is an amazing job.'

'You'd pick a job over love?'

'It's more complicated than that.' How to explain that even though he didn't have the guts to go after Addison, devoting himself to Neo-Natal surgery was his twisted way of devoting himself to her. Even if she'd never know.

'How?'

'I… Like I say, it's complicated. They're sort of… the same thing in a way.'

'Right.' The bartender looks distinctly unconvinced, and Alex might have argued with him, except for this guy had sailed across the ocean to marry the love of his life, worked in a hotel bar, and looked as happy as Hell. It was pretty clear who was in the right.

'Another whiskey?'

'Sure thing.'


	4. Chapter 4

The interview process had been nerve wracking

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, story alerts etc on the last chapter, great to hear that you're enjoying it. I'm in the UK and we're only on Season 3 at the moment, so it's all about the Alex and Addison right now, and I have to say, I love it.

Disclaimer: As before

The morning of his interview dawned as grey and overcast as the previous day, and he hadn't even reached the breakfast table before he realised it was true, the Brits really were obsessed with the weather. Even the concierge he shared the lift with felt the need to tut gravely and say, 'awful morning, isn't it sir? Been like this for weeks on end,' and Alex found himself responding in kind.

_Wow, _he thought, _guess I could settle here just fine._

At breakfast, he ended up mainly just moving his food around his plate. He'd gone for a proper English breakfast and right up until the point where he speared a sausage with his fork, he'd been really looking forward to it. Now though, his stomach was knotting up with nerves and food was the last thing he wanted. After a while of shifting his food aimlessly around his plate with the words 'don't play with your food' in his mother's voice echoing in his head, he gave up and sat back with his coffee instead.

Coffee always reminded him of Addison. Of sometimes when he would bring her a coffee before they started rounds of a morning, of occasionally when she would bring him one. Of the way she would look after she'd taken a sip of much needed caffeine, as if she was sampling nectar or something.

And of course, the vanilla latte incident. He'd hated Sloan for hurting her, making her feel vulnerable and taking away her confidence and even though bringing him the wrong type of coffee was a pathetically childish way of getting back at him for her, he'd still felt a sense of satisfaction.

He'd also, selfishly, hated him for knowing her well enough to know how to do those things to her. Which was ironic, given that he'd managed to perfect the art himself only a matter of weeks later.

A waiter broke into his reverie. 'Are you finished with your breakfast sir?'

Alex sat back from the table. 'Oh. Yes. Thank you.'

They both looked awkwardly at the full plate of mangled food sitting on the table.

'Was everything to your liking sir?'

'Yes, it was fine. Sorry, job interview this morning,' he explained. 'Too nervous to eat.'

'Quite understandable sir. Good luck,' he replied, before removing the plate and whisking it away.

Alex dressed in a new suit for the interview. Izzie had made him buy it, insisting that his perfectly adequate although not exactly designer black suit was neither smart or new enough to be worn at such an important event. As always, it was never worth arguing with her, so he had allowed himself to be dragged around Seattle's most overpriced shops by a relentless Izzie and Meredith intent on dropping every possible hint about Addison without actually mentioning her name. It had driven him up the wall, but he had to admit, the suit did look good.

He took a cab to the hospital to save getting caught in the rain but sitting in the rush hour traffic he wished he hadn't. It wasn't helping the nerves in the slightest. The closer it came to the time of the interview ('please report to the surgical reception on the third floor at nine o'clock sharp') the more his stomach seemed to twist around itself.

He wasn't generally a nervous guy. It had been a very long time since he had felt so physically sick at the thought of what was coming ahead. He was so used to himself as cool, professional Doctor Karev that the sensation was completely unfamiliar to him, and he didn't much like it.

It was just he wanted this job _so _much. He didn't even know why exactly it meant so much to him, just this sense that it was the right job. It was where he wanted his next step in his life to go and if it didn't work out, he wasn't exactly sure what Plan B was.

Bailey had coached him with the interview process every step of the way. Hours had been spent at the hospital, far longer than their shifts lasted, doing research, finding out who the other candidates were, how good they were. They had been through everything that the interview process might contain, right down to what knife and fork Alex should use if dinner somewhere expensive was involved. When Bailey first suggested the cutlery lesson, he'd been convinced she was joking, but when he realised she was serious, he had decided it might not have been the worst idea in the world. He was more a simple steakhouse kind of a guy, and it _had _been a while since he'd been somewhere really posh.

In the end, he didn't need the cutlery lesson, but at the meet and greet for candidates – coffee in the surgical consultants' lounge – it did require every ounce of his old arrogance to hold his own. Within about ten seconds, he realised he was the youngest person to have made the shortlist by the better part of twenty years and easily the least experienced. Most of the doctors there seemed to have double barrelled names and talk like something out of a Charles Dickens novel. Well, okay, so he might be stereotyping somewhat, but it came down to the same thing. He was the young hot-shot American, and not one of the other candidates was willing to give him the time of day.

Fortunately for him, the interviewing board did not seem to share their opinion. A distinguished looking man who didn't exude the same air of self importance as many of the other people in the room did came over to him and stuck out a hand.

'Michael Newton-Jones. I'm the Head of the Surgical Department here at Great Ormond Street. Doctor Karev, I understand?'

'Yes. Pleased to meet you.'

'Likewise. In fact, to put it more accurately, I should say I'm _intrigued _to meet you.' Alex wasn't sure if he was meant to respond, so he smiled politely and let the other man continue. 'You have had a remarkable career so far. We're very pleased that you've found the time to fly over here for this.'

'You, you are?' His cool professionalism dissipated for an unguarded moment of surprise that one of the most renowned hospitals in the world were actually honoured to have him on their candidate list. It was… surreal.

Newton-Jones had chuckled. 'Yes Doctor Karev. We are.' He indicated around the room. 'Despite appearances here this morning, we are a young hospital. We would never allow youth to count against you. After all, we are a paediatric hospital, we put a lot of value on youth.'

'Well,' Alex stuttered, 'that's… um… nice to know.'

They shook hands again. 'Good luck with the interviews Doctor Karev.'

The interview process lasted for two days, although he was one of only three candidates that progressed through to the second one. It was mainly made up of meetings and formal (scary) interviews with people in even smarter suits than his own across intimidatingly large polished wood tables, but he was also required to make several presentations on what he would bring to the hospital and along those lines, endure lunch on both days with board members and various charitable backers of the hospital and even scrub in on a fairly straightforward hernia repair in a newborn.

Then, just as it was beginning to seem that the feeling of being on show was never going to end, it did. On the third day, he was summoned back to the hospital and one minute he was shaking hands in greeting with a number of the best paediatric specialists in the world, then suddenly he was being told he was one of them.

'Congratulations Mr Karev.' Straight away, he noted the new title. It seemed strange that after slogging his guts out for so many years to no longer be called 'doctor' but it was a position of respect here and he wasn't going to complain. 'Welcome to the team here at Great Ormond Street.'

It was Michael Newton-Jones, his new boss he supposed, who was breaking the news. 'Thank you Mr Newton-Jones, I can't tell you how honoured I am.' He was surprised at how steady his voice sounded. Inside, he was shaking. Then he added, hoping he wasn't speaking out of line, 'and please, call me Alex.'

'Alex it is. And no standing on ceremony as we're colleagues now. Michael.'

They shook hands again. 'Michael,' Alex repeated, with a broad smile. He'd done it, he'd actually pulled it off. _He'd got the job. _


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying writing this story, so thank you so much for the reviews to tell me that you're enjoying reading it

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying writing this story, so thank you so much for the reviews to tell me that you're enjoying reading it. It's always nice to hear from you, and the more the better. Incidentally, the bartender was intended to be a one-off guest star but I did rather take to him, so you never know, he may make the odd cameo later on if it seems plausible. There's nothing like a conversation with an insightful stranger to move a story forward. Oh, and as a treat, this is a bit of a longer chapter for you. Generally, my stories have long chapters and slow updates, so perhaps this one will be both.

Disclaimer: As before.

And so here he was, Mr Karev, Consultant of Neo-Natal Surgery at Great Ormond Street, just as his business card said. The first few weeks had been an utter whirlwind of new faces, getting endlessly lost on the relatively simple route from his office to his ward to his OR, no, theatre, and ploughing through the vast chasm between the English and American languages.

Now though, he felt as if he was beginning to get a grip on it all again. Only that morning, he found his way from his office to the ward for rounds, to the men's room, then back to his office again without ending up in any of the random places that he had done previously (including, but not limited to, the cafeteria, the Oncology floor, three different offices that were not his own and the service elevator.) It was clearly a victory for him, and he had been intending to celebrate it somehow, but of course, he was working late, again.

It was challenging here in a way Seattle Grace had ceased to be. In the strictest sense, many of his day to day cases were not wholly dissimilar to what he had been dealing with previously, but as this was a specialised paediatric hospital, it seemed… more somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was really driving him to raise his standards. The closest he could come to describing it to Izzie, who was constantly on the phone bugging him for news, was that here he was working in a hospital with an international reputation and he felt the need to live up to that.

As if on cue, the phone rang. Because of the time difference, she always rang at the same time of day, and usually tried his office first. He hadn't given it to her, but it had taken her less than a week to get his direct line number.

'Karev.' He answered formally, just in case.

'You always say that, and it's always me,' Izzie retorted.

'I'll have you know that I have a great number of extremely important phone calls that come through on this number every day. Far more important than you.'

'I miss you too Alex.' Her tone was sarcastic, but Alex knew she meant it, and he missed her too. In all honesty, he hadn't been sure that he would, but he did get the occasional pang for Seattle, mainly when he was talking to Izzie. He did miss her, and Meredith, and their crazy brand of friendship.

'All right, you got me, I miss you Iz. When I have time to anyway. What's your news?'

'Ooh, I have gossip.' Her voice had that overly excited, bright-and-shiny tone to it that irritated him, but usually made him smile at the same time.

He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on his desk, furtively checking that the blinds on his office were closed. That polished wood looked far too expensive to have his shoes on it. 'Go on then, I can hear that juicy snippet just waiting to burst out.'

There was some squealing down the telephone line that could have been words but it was too high pitched to be able to distinguish them.

'You know I'm not a bat don't you?' he asked.

'Huh?'

'I can't hear sounds at that high a frequency. No human being can. Speak slower, lower, or you'll give me a headache.'

He could hear her take a deep breath and make a conscious effort to restrain herself. 'All right. Human range of hearing. Meredith and Derek are going to have a baby.'

'Wow, really?' Meredith and Derek had been married for a while now, getting on for four years and he had a feeling that they had been trying for children for a little while now. 'Tell them I'm over the moon for them. In fact, tell Meredith I'll give her a call later, that's such amazing news.'

'Yeah, it is, isn't it? They say they don't want to know if it's a boy or a girl, and they're going to paint the nursery lemon or mint green or something that could go either way, but I really think they should find out…'

As Izzie's words got faster again, he tuned out. It took a lot of energy to keep up with her when she was like this and it had been a long, long day. Instead, he reflected on the news with a soft smile on his face. He wasn't as close to Meredith as he was Izzie these days, but he had a connection with her all the same. He remembered the time she had nearly drowned during the ferry incident, _so _many years ago now, and as she was being worked on, he remembered thinking that she _had _to pull through, that she had to live and breathe and find her happy ending, because if Meredith could do it, then just maybe he stood a chance.

He wasn't sure if he was emotionally capable of pulling off a happy ending in all honesty, but it was of enormous significance to him that Meredith was going to manage it, that she had managed to conquer the "dark and twisty" thing. Plus she and Derek would make fantastic parents.

'Alex, are you even listening to me?'

'Iz, you know that if you have to ask that question, I'm not listening. You went all squeaky again so I was thinking about Meredith and Derek instead of talking about them. Anything else happening over there?'

'Not really, Bailey's running interviews for the new Neo-Natal Chief.'

'Hm, anyone interesting?'

'Not really. They seem all right, no-one stands out though. Meredith says Derek says she's going to reopen the search.'

'Well you know, us world class Neo-Natal surgeons are few and far between. I'm a hard act to follow.'

'Yeah, yeah. So, what's going on with you anyway? How's the new start coming along?'

'That's your way of asking me if I've met anyone yet, isn't it?' He loved the banter with Izzie. They could keep the ball bouncing back and forth for ages like this.

'Well, I thought that was the point. You've slept with pretty much every woman at Seattle Grace, you needed some fresh victims.'

'You're getting subtle in your old age.'

'Who are you calling old? Anyway, so have you met someone?'

'I've honestly not had the time. This may be a completely different hospital but it's still essentially the same job. All I've seen of London is the inside of this hospital, my hotel, and a tube train.'

'You're _still _living in a hotel?'

'I'm kinda used to it.' Just then, he heard the handle of his office door turning and automatically he shot his feet from their position on the desk, taking a few files and an empty coffee cup with them. Michael Newton-Jones was poking his head around the door, the hint of an amused smile twitching at the corner of his lips and the hasty foot movement.

'Iz, I gotta go. Speak to you soon.'

'All right. Don't forget to call Meredith, and go find yourself an apartment. And a girlfriend.'

'Bye Izzie.'

He looked up at Michael and indicated for him to come in and take a seat. 'Sorry about that, friend from Seattle.'

'No problem Alex. It must be hard to keep in touch with such a time difference.'

'Oh, it takes more than being on the opposite side of the world to knock Isobel Stevens off her stride, believe me,' he said emphatically.

Michael looked surprised. 'Oh, I didn't realise you had a girlfriend back in America Alex. I assumed you…'

Alex jumped in quickly to correct him. 'No, Izzie and I are old friends, we were interns together and have worked with each other ever since. She's…' He smiled. 'She's a high maintenance friend sometimes, but she has a heart of gold. She called to tell me one of our friends is having a baby. Anyway Michael, what can I do for you?'

'Well, I wanted to discuss something with you. You've been here six weeks now and the Board is delighted with your work and how well you've settled in. You're a real asset to the team.'

Alex frowned. There was something in the other man's tone that made him feel wary. 'Thank you, but I can feel a "but" on the end of this sentence.'

'Don't panic, your job is utterly safe, but it's just… we've been approached by someone who is keen for a position here at Great Ormond Street. She's a Neo-Natal surgeon of extraordinary expertise and we'd be crazy to turn her down.'

The world tipped a little on its axis and a tiny shiver of electricity ran up his spine as it did so. Of course, it would be the most obscure coincidence in the world (or else a master plan cooked up by Bailey or Izzie and Meredith or most likely all three of them) for it to be her, but the completely unknowing, innocent turn of phrase told him instinctively that it was. You would have to be crazy to turn down Addison Forbes Montgomery.

Michael was still talking. 'Of course, we wouldn't be bringing her in over you head or anything. She would be entering at consultant level alongside you and no doubt you would end up working quite closely together. I trust that you wouldn't have a problem with another senior member of the team?'

'No, no, of course not,' Alex assured him. He wished Michael would just come out with it, this skirting around it was tying his stomach in knots. Although the other man had no idea what he was doing to him.

'In fact, if I remember correctly from your CV, she used to be your attending many moons ago. Do you remember Addison Montgomery?'

Oh, he remembered all right. He remembered the taste of vodka of her lips the night she kissed him in Joes, and the unbelievable vibrant red of her hair, the way she looked at him, as if she wanted to eat him alive, and the way she moaned and gasped in his ear when she came. And the hurt on her beautiful face as he pushed her away. Yes. He remembered Addison Montgomery.

It wasn't until Michael spoke again that he realised he must have gone quiet. 'Alex? Do you remember Doctor Montgomery?'

'Yes,' he said, as confidently as he was able. 'It was Doctor Montgomery who inspired me to specialise in this field.'

'Excellent. I told the Board not to worry about how you would take it. They thought you might be offended, thought you were being undermined or something along those lines.'

'Not at all,' Alex reiterated. Just, _did it have to be Addison?_

Michael rose from his chair and made his way across the office to the door. 'Oh, and Alex? I know it's your day off tomorrow and that you've been working extremely hard recently, but we're having a reception for Doctor Montgomery tomorrow. Three o'clock in the conference room on the third floor. I'm sure she would be pleased to see a familiar face.'

When he left, Alex spoke out loud. 'Don't you believe it.'


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I always feel tediously repetitive in my author's notes thanking you all for your reviews (which have been so fabulously complimentary they have been a pleasure to read) but I do mean it

Author's Note: I always feel tediously repetitive in my author's notes thanking you all for your reviews (which have been so fabulously complimentary they have been a pleasure to read) but I do mean it. As fellow writers will know, although it is very nice to have one's ego stroked and petted, feedback is invaluable in shaping the story. If there's something you feel that could be worked on, then do tell me.

Disclaimer: As before.

_Why, _Addison wondered to herself as she struggled with her inside-out umbrella and did her very best not to take someone's eye out as she stepped out of the relative protection of the tube station into the street, _do I have to go back to the rain? _She'd had enough of that monotonous grey, dull, drizzly wetness in Seattle to last a lifetime, and the ever present sunshine and warmth of California had been a welcome antidote to it, to a lot of things.

But it hadn't solved everything, and it wasn't the problem-free utopia she had hoped for. In so very many ways, it had been a million times better than Seattle. Although there were people there who knew something of her past, well, Naomi knew pretty much all of it, but there were no constant reminders of it to haunt her. No Derek, still, even by the time she left, with that look of contempt and disgust at her dancing behind his eyes, as if he was full of innocence himself. No Mark, and his easy, lazy smile, and the constant uncertainty, _does he mean it, can I trust him? _

Whenever there was a knock on the door of her office though, and the announcement that there was "a visitor" to see her, it wasn't Derek or Mark she was hoping to see, and she kicked herself for that pathetic girlish part of her.

She had lasted there three years before eventually the lack of work drove her too crazy to stay. Always, when all the other elements of her life were unravelling, there had been her job. It held her together, transported her away from all her convoluted problems and reminded her just how trivial they were compared to the life of a baby. Or the death of a baby. So many times, when she had felt her own life slipping away from her, she could go to work and do something extraordinary that made her feel that there was a point to her being on the earth after all. Her own life might not be all she hoped for sometimes, but she could always console herself with the thought of how many lives existed just because of her.

The clinic, great fun though it was, never gave her that, and in the end, she decided that she prized her work, and her reputation far beyond an easy life. California suited her, and she'd stayed there, transferring to one of the big city hospitals but it still wasn't…

Oh, who was she kidding? She knew exactly what, or who, she was in search of, but if anyone ever questioned her about her unsettled feeling, she always claimed it was something she couldn't put her finger on, absolutely refusing to admit to anyone, even Naomi, that still, after seven years, she couldn't quite get Alex Karev out of her head. So often, she'd been tempted to jump on a plane and go and see him. She was still in vague, sporadic contact with a few people at Seattle Grace, Callie sometimes, Miranda occasionally and an annual Christmas card from Derek and Meredith, and she had heard that Alex was still there, but she refused to ask any more than that. She decided it was better for her peace of mind that she didn't know. He was probably married to Ava or Stevens and barbecued every weekend. Damn it.

Although she didn't consider her life in California to be perfect, it was still pretty darn good, and she had no particular inclination for a change (although she was undeniably so deeply entrenched in a rut that she could barely see daylight), until a couple of weeks ago, she'd been looking up an article in a journal, following up a reference for an paper she was assisting one of her residents on and something in the appointments section had jumped out at her. It was for a Neo-Natal Surgery Consultant post, which was perfect for her, but what really made it stand out was that it was at Great Ormond Street hospital. Anyone who worked in paediatrics, probably anywhere in the world, had heard of Great Ormond Street. It was a byword for excellence, innovation and utter dedication to paediatric care – well, that was her, wasn't it?

The hitch; naturally there had to be a hitch, this was her life after all, was that the closing date for applications had been three months ago, and the starting date already a couple of weeks past. Normally, she would have shrugged, and thought never mind, but this idea of this job really, really appealed to her, so on the off chance, she called the number on the advert.

The initial telephone conversation hadn't been a success, she had been completely fobbed off by a distinctly unhelpful woman who clearly was full of her own self importance and liked to take it out the fact that she was menopausal or sexually frustrated, or both, on unfortunate callers who she could catch unawares. However, less than an hour later, a phone call was put through to her office.

'Doctor Montgomery, a Mr Newton-Jones on line three for you.'

'A Mr Newton-Jones, do you know who he is, or what it's about?' The name didn't ring a bell.

The girl who was trying to put the call through sounded awkward. 'No, sorry, I didn't ask. He said he was from Great Ormond Street. Would you like me to find out?'

_Great Ormond Street, huh? _she thought. _The name Addison Montgomery still means something then_. 'No, it's fine Becky. Put him through, I think I know what it's about actually.' She heard the click of the line. 'Addison Montgomery.'

'Doctor Montgomery,' a smooth, perhaps late middle aged English accent said. 'I must apologise that I wasn't available to take your call earlier. I have to say, I was most intrigued to hear that you called.'

'Mr Newton-Jones I understand. I'm sorry, I was told you're from Great Ormond Street, but I'm afraid you have the advantage over me. You appear to know who I am.' Ah, she loved Confident Addison, it was great to be able to pull her out and use her again from time to time, even if she didn't have the energy for it all the time. Plus the stilettos were murder for her back these days.

'Yes. I am Michael Newton-Jones, and I'm the Head of the Surgical Department at Great Ormond Street. I was co-ordinating the search for the new Neo-Natal Surgery Consultant, and I was told by my secretary earlier that you had been enquiring if the position has been filled.'

Addison heard the "was" part of the co-ordinating the search, and her heart sank. She'd missed it. 'Yes, I saw a notice for it in an old journal only this morning. I presumed the position had been filled but it's something I would be extremely interested in, so I thought it might be worth a phone call. I was given slightly short thrift though, so I guess it wasn't worth the call after all.'

'Well, the position has been filled now. The successful candidate has been with us for about a fortnight now, and even in such early days, is proving himself excellent.'

'Oh, in that case, I'm sorry to have troubled you.'

'Not at all. Please don't be so hasty Doctor Montgomery. As soon as I heard that you had been sniffing around so to speak, I went straight to the Board and their response was unequivocal – we would be delighted to meet with you about a possible position for you here.'

'Oh, I…' Addison was too surprised to be able to do much more than splutter a little. She hadn't expected to actually get anywhere with her enquiry, which in a small way, was one of the reasons she made it. That way she could tell herself that she had tried to drag herself out of her rut; it wasn't her fault that nothing had come of it.

'Of course,' he went on. 'We're not made of money, and those in control of the pursestrings will need a little persuading that we can justify another Neo-Natal Consultant post so soon after already hiring one, but us surgeons are very good at getting what we want. How soon would you be able to get over to London?'

'Uh…' Come on, Addison, pull yourself together. You wanted this job. Go to London, and they might just consider giving it to you. 'To be honest, my schedule is punishing at the moment, particularly if I suddenly announce I am leaving. I may be able to get over next week.'

'Excellent. Shall we say Tuesday? You could get a red eye, have a morning meeting with us, then be back on a plane again in the afternoon. That would give the accountants time to confirm the funding for you is available, after which meeting the board would be a formality as much as anything I suspect. Your reputation precedes you.'

Tuesday. Then a month's notice here, she supposed. She could be there, working, living in London in as little as five weeks. Christ, talk about taking drastic action. _But, _she thought to herself, _why the Hell not? _'Tuesday would be fine. Let me know a time and I'll be there.'

That was indeed five weeks ago, and the intervening period of time had been utterly crazy. Naomi thought she had lost her mind, and the hospital went mad when she handed in her notice, but she'd ploughed on regardless, completely refusing to listen to the many pleas for her to stay. In fact, she'd had no idea there were so many people who didn't want her to go, but she had been implacable.

One set of people she hadn't told were those in Seattle. To be fair, she hadn't lied to them, but it would only have been a phone call, but she couldn't bring herself to make it. She knew that Callie and Miranda would insist she visited before she left, and she just couldn't face it. London was going to be a new start. She wasn't running from anyone, or to anyone, she was simply starting over. Somewhere new. Coming face to face with Alex before she went was not what she needed. She could tell them once she was there.

She reached the hospital, and darted inside quickly out of the rain. The reception was going to be on the third floor, but before she made her way up there (or attempted to, given that she had no idea where she was going), she stopped and delved into her handbag. Already she was falling in love with London, she had been living here just two days, but one thing she had already discovered about it was that it was not designed for high heels. They were something she couldn't live without though, like a child and its comfort blanket, and Confident Addison certainly needed the stilettos to pull off the act.

She pulled a pair of high, high black leather shoes out of her oversized bag and slipped them on in place of the soggy pumps she had worn to walk in, wrapping them in a plastic bag she had bright especially and hid them back in her bag. _There, that was better. _She stood tall and made her way towards the elevator.

Despite getting there in plenty of time, it was ten past three before she finally managed to find herself in front of a heavy wooden door with a notice that read "Surgical Drinks Reception" pinned to it. She'd wandered through so many corridors that her feet were aching and eventually she'd had to concede defeat and ask for directions, but here she was. Her new colleagues, her new life, stood on the other side of this door. A little tentatively, she pushed it open.

Immediately, Michael Newton-Jones was there, shaking her hand enthusiastically. 'Ms Montgomery, at last, we were beginning to wonder where you had got to.'

'I'm sorry,' she apologised, 'I got a little lost.'

'No problem at all. Now, come with me, let me get you sorted out with a drink. As you're lucky enough not to be on shift, how does a glass of wine sound?'

'Uh, thank you.'

It was a while before she got her wine though. Michael, who she'd already decided she'd liked and would get on well with – he reminded her a little of Richard, just more enthusiastic about things, and very English – had lined up what seemed like dozens and dozens of people for her to meet, and she was absolutely bombarded by names, faces and handshakes. She didn't stand a chance of remembering them all, but she kept a smile on her face and sort of edited the information he gave her.

She decided she had the capacity to remember maybe ten names, five full names, and five first names only, so she concentrated on those that he named as being members of her team. She was sure she really ought to be more concerned with the board members and Important People, but at the end of the day, it was the people on the ground who really mattered.

She was talking with one of the Senior House Officers, Kevin Thompson (she thought an SHO was roughly equivalent to a resident, so she was definitely going to need to know his last name so she could bark orders at him) when Michael returned to her side and touched her lightly on the arm.

'Addison?' She'd already berated him for calling her Ms Montgomery, saying she didn't want to stand on ceremony. 'There's someone else I want you to meet.'

'Oh, excellent. Is it a last name person, because I've almost filled up my quota for the day?' She'd felt easy enough with him to confide her little plan, and he'd thought it was hilarious.

'Actually, I am reliably informed that you already know this person so you can save your last name spot for someone else.' _What does he mean, someone I know? Who do I know in London? _'This is our other Neo-Natal Surgery Consultant, Addison.'

She caught sight of someone weaving his way towards her through the crowd, and she didn't even need to see his face to know it was him. She'd have known, instinctively, anywhere. _Oh God_, she thought_. Oh no. This _cannot _be possible. _

'This is Alex Karev.'


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you all to devour, my deepest apologies that you had to wait a couple of days for it, but a cliffhanger has so much more effect if I keep you dangling for a while

Author's Note: Here's another chapter for you all to devour, my deepest apologies that you had to wait a couple of days for it, but a cliffhanger has _so _much more effect if I keep you dangling for a while. Many thanks for all the reviews (so many!) By the way, I may occasionally lapse into the odd occurrence of bad language – this story is rated T so I don't believe it needs an additional warning should a swear word sneak its way in, but just so you know, it may be there. Sorry if it offends.

Disclaimer: As before

'_This is Alex Karev.'_

The words echoed in her ears over and over again, as if her brain refused to take them in. Her eyes were telling her that he was there, Michael's words were telling her that he was there, but all she could think was how utterly impossible it was that it was him.

And how utterly impossible that it had been seven years and there was a still a solitary, persistent butterfly doing fluttering back flips in her stomach.

She realised that she must have been standing there, her face slack with a doubtlessly unflattering cod-like gape, for a far longer length of time than was socially acceptable, so she tried to make her mouth form some sort of a suitable response (although what the Hell a suitable response was, she had no damn idea).

She noticed then he was holding out a hand to her and she knew there was no way on earth that she could get out of shaking it. Immediately, the butterfly gained half a dozen friends. His skin was cool and his grip precise; unmistakably the hands of a surgeon.

'It's nice to see you again,' he said slowly, and she could tell he was waiting for her to react.

'I…' Try as she might, she was incapable of squeezing out anything more significant than that. Their hands were still clasped and his fingers fitted around her own as if they belonged there. Had things been different, they might have done.

_Christ Addison, _she thought, _had things been different? Pull yourself together, right now. _

She tried to speak again, more confidently this time. 'Yes, I…It's good to see you too. A surprise though. _Definitely _a surprise.'

Alex could see the absolute, blind shock on her face, and for the first time since Michael had accosted him in his office yesterday evening, he was glad that he knew about this in advance. Last night, with his mind racing, he had wished that he hadn't known it was going to be her, that he hadn't had the better part of twenty four hours to stew, but that it had just been sprung on him. Now though, looking at her, he was eternally grateful for the warning.

Seven years. _Seven years. _Suddenly his mind was filled of fragments of the past, a moment over an incubator, a thousand loaded looks, that kiss. And more. His chest tightened, his breathing quickened. He could see her, as beautiful as ever. More so, perhaps.

He remembered all the times he had seen Derek or Sloan hurt her with a stinging word and how protective that had made him feel. Always, he had felt a need to protect her, and he realised that seven years might have been a long time and who the hell knew what else was going to happen, but the time had not been enough to erase that feeling. He had to try to make this easier for her.

He grinned lopsidedly at her, one of his old intern smiles that he didn't think he'd pulled out in years. 'Feeling a little blindsided?'

And then the tension was broken. She laughed lightly, and he saw her shoulders relax a bit. 'You have no idea,' she admitted. 'I cannot believe you're in London. Or that you beat me to this job.' _You're overtalking Addison. Stop overtalking._ 'You're a consultant now?' she asked, more slowly. 'Of Neo-Natal?'

'Yep. I am,' he said simply.

He saw Michael's eyes flicker down to their still clasped hands and he realised he was still holding her hand, and dropped it reluctantly. It felt good to feel her skin again. Too good.

He glanced across at where Michael had been standing just a moment ago and their boss seemed to have disappeared. He was going to have to have a talk with him later, come clean and put him straight. Better to tell him now that eight years ago, he and Addison kissed once in a bar and had sex. Once. And that they hadn't seen or spoken to each other for years, and that absolutely nothing was going to get in the way of him doing his job, and he could vouch for Addison on that as well. Still, better that Michael heard it from him.

Addison just looked at him for a moment. Seven years had changed him. Naturally, he looked older (she knew she did) but he looked older in the sense of being wiser, mature, a better man. And the suit he was wearing was expensive, possibly even tailored. With an ironed shirt. Definitely a different Alex than she remembered.

'I expected you to go back to Plastics after...' _After I left. _'After your internship.'

She'd never thought for a minute that he would have continued with the OB/GYN and Neonatal work after she left. Although she had suspected he wasn't half as against it as he pretended, she had been sure he would go back to the glamour of Plastics. And for him to be a Consultant. He must be good. She wondered what it meant, what that look in his eyes was trying to convey. Whether he felt like his skin was on fire where they had touched.

He shrugged. 'No, it wasn't for me. Besides…' he added.

'Sloan's not much of a teacher?' she finished for him.

'Actually,' he said quietly, 'I never thought Sloan was much of anything.'

'Alex…' she began, but he cut her off.

'Sorry, I didn't mean that. Well, I didn't mean to say it out loud anyway,' he corrected himself.

He looked around the room. There wasn't a single person looking at them, but they were completely surrounded. God damn all these people. Seven years, and they had to have this conversation now, surrounded by a room full of strangers? It wasn't meant to be like this. He wanted to do this on his terms. Or hers. But not like this.

Part of him wanted to drag her out of the room and out of the hospital and take her somewhere, anywhere – a bar or a café or a park bench surrounded by pigeons – and talk and talk and talk. He wanted to put the fear aside and explain everything and tell her that he knew he screwed up, but he was screwed up so that was just something he did, but now wasn't the time.

He did have to get out of here though. She was staring at him in that wide eyed way she always used to and it brought back too many memories for the moment. He was wary though; would escaping now look like a snub to her? He had done that too often, and with his track record, he knew that was how she would take it if he left.

Then he was saved by his pager beeping. He grabbed it and consulted it quickly. 'Addison, I'm sorry, I have to go. One of my preemies is having some breathing difficulties.' Her face fell, and he couldn't help but smile at her.

Was it really, really weird of him that he was looking forward to working with her again as much as the possibility of anything else? She'd been the best person he ever worked with, and not just because she was Addison.

'Come with me?'

'What?'

'Two week old twin, born by emergency c-section to a pre-eclampsic mother at twenty five weeks. Been holding his own reasonably well all things considered but now suffering breathing difficulties.' He relayed the bare essentials of the case, and felt a rush of recognition when he saw the professional interest light up her eyes.

'Sounds like fun,' she said.

Very, very lightly, he put a hand on her back, resting it just at the base of her spine, and steered her in the direction of the door.

'It will be,' he replied softly, his breath hot on her neck.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: My apologies that it has been a few days since the last update, but I'm all caught up in Olympic Fever and as Team GB are actually winning medals, I'm going to tune in to every second I can

Author's Note: My apologies that it has been a few days since the last update, but I'm all caught up in Olympic Fever and as Team GB are actually winning medals, I'm going to tune in to every second I can! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm glad to hear that you all seem to like where this is headed.

Disclaimer: As before. I didn't mention earlier, characters that aren't recognisable as being from Grey's, are my invention, principally Michael Newton-Jones. In the unlikely event anyone should wish to use them, they are available for hire at the price of a review.

Addison felt a shiver down her spine as he spoke, starting right at the nape of her neck and trickling down to where his hand was lying, tantalisingly lightly. There was nothing particularly intimate or personal about his tone, but he was a little closer behind her than she had expected him to be, and she had to suppress a jolt of surprise.

He was just so… close. Despite the room full of people, his proximity was making her heart race. She knew the contours of his body just well enough to be able to imagine how it would feel if he was pressing against her back and she felt a crimson blush creep up her neck. He possessed an overwhelming masculinity that did things to her that she didn't even think Mark managed. She couldn't believe that it had been seven years and the memory of the supply closet was as vivid as it had ever been. She could feel the ghost of his hands over her body even now.

Then she remembered that they were at work and, unlike Seattle Grace, this was not the sort of place where that was acceptable. There would be no return trips to any supply closets, so she tried not to dwell on it. Too many times the memory had left her hot, flustered and frustrated. She took a deep breath and put on her most professional demeanour. She couldn't resist a little bit of teasing though – that hand on her back wasn't exactly playing fair.

'I'm looking forward to working with you again Karev,' she said, the hint of flirtatiousness in her voice only detectable to someone who really knew her. She knew the "Karev" would bug him.

Alex smirked to himself when he saw the scarlet flush appear above the collar of her blouse. He didn't really mean to have touched her, to have leaned in quite so close, but an old part of him wanted to see if he could still make her flustered. And it turned out he could; in fact, it had been childishly easy. He didn't want to start that whole game between them again; it was one hell of a ride but it only had one ending and it wasn't good, but… But she was Addison Montgomery and he was Alex Karev and maybe this dance was something that would always be there.

He'd thought for a minute with that blush that he had got the upper hand over her, which was a satisfying feeling, but he should have known that revenge would be swift to follow. She was Satan after all. That "Karev" was a low blow, but it amused him all the same. With that one word, she had taken him from Consultant, on an equal standing with her, right back down to intern again. Her intern. He groaned inwardly.

They made their way to the SCBU as quickly as they could, Addison letting out a girlish giggle when she realised Alex was having to follow the signs and arrows in the hallways to find his way to his own department.

The tiny Baby Reuben was more stable by the time they arrived. One of the SHOs had already upped the oxygen and Alex was pleased to discover that the situation was not as serious as he had been expecting. Reuben's lungs were weak and he wasn't at all convinced that he was going to make it, but only time would tell. After a thorough check of vitals, and a reassuring word with the baby's parents, he withdrew.

'Let me show you my office. I'm afraid it's going to be your office too for a while, until they find something more suitable, so you had better find out where it is.'

'Okay,' Addison agreed. She had been impressed by the way Alex had handled the case she had just observed, not only the baby but the parents as well. With the child he was calm and deft, and with the parents understanding, explaining everything in layman's terms but without being at all patronising.

'You know, you were good back there,' she found herself saying.

He grinned. 'Thank you, I am good.' Then, to take the arrogance out of his words, 'I had a good teacher.'

That smouldering way he was looking at her, Addison thought she might burst into flames. She tried to lighten the moment a little by breaking away from his gaze and laughing lightly. 'Well, someone had to knock you into shape.'

_Oh, and what a shape. _He was wearing a white shirt that made his skin look tanned and his arms look incredibly sexy. And those hands, currently occupied in chivalrously holding open a door for her. She had been on the receiving end of their dexterity and skill and it had been mind blowing.

By the time they were sitting in their office, a slightly awkward silence had descended between them. There were too many lingering looks for them to be casual, but too much time had passed for them to have reason to be anything but casual. They were teetering on the brink of something that Alex knew they were nowhere near being ready to approach yet. Maybe one day, but not now.

'Look, Addison,' he began, in a different voice, with a serious tone, the flirtatiousness gone. 'Do you want to have dinner with me tonight? I'm not meant to be on shift so it doesn't have to be in the hospital cafeteria; we could go into the city or somewhere nice.'

Yet again, he took her by surprise. What was he asking? What did he mean? She had thought she knew him well enough to know that any advance he made on her wasn't going to be so overt, so open. His deep brown eyes had lost their playful glint now, but were no less intense for it. Did it make her utterly pathetic that there was a small leap of hope somewhere deep inside herself?

'I'm sorry, I…' she stammered. 'Dinner?'

He saw her eyes widen, but the surprise wasn't enough to hide the glimmer of hope that sprung in there alongside it. It hurt him to do it, but he had to kill that off, at least for the moment. As much as he would like to drag her back to his hotel and ravish her there and then, he wasn't going to. Izzie was right, he really had grown up. She would murder him for this though.

'Yes, dinner. That thing that people do, when they eat a meal in the evenings,' he joked. 'I know it's been a long time and all, and what happened is ancient history, but I think we need to clear the air if we're going to be working together. A lot was left unsaid – by me, mainly,' he jumped in as she opened her mouth to interrupt, 'and I think we need to –'

She heard his words as if they were coming from a long way away, a train coming down a long, long tunnel and eventually catching up with her and squashing her flat. Just like last time. Had she been completely imagining those looks? Just like last time? Before he could use the word 'professional' or something equally dismissive, she cut him off.

'Yes. Absolutely. Clearing the air, that sounds like a great idea,' she replied with a forced jollity.

He knew he'd knocked her down and he felt every bit as bad as he had before. But as then, he knew that his motives were good. He wanted to tell her he was sorry and that he understood that he had hurt her, but for now at least, it was something he had to do, but if they were going to talk, they needed to do it properly, from the beginning.

Instead, he copied her tone. 'Great,' he found himself repeating. 'Where do you fancy going? Somewhere in the city?'

His smile was infectious, even when smiling back at him was the last thing Addison wanted to do. 'Somewhere nice,' she said, excited at the prospect of a trip into the city and getting dressed up in spite of that dying feeling inside. Well, she was used to that. She had spent years dying inside, first in New York, then in Seattle.

'Leave it to me. Where shall I pick you up from? Or do you just want to meet me somewhere?'

'Where've you got in mind?'

'I don't know yet. What's your cell number?' She pulled a pen and an old receipt out of her handbag and scrawled it down. He reached across the desk and took it from her, resisting the temptation to let their fingers touch. 'I'll call you later.'


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Oh dear oh dear

Author's Note: Oh dear oh dear. For those of you who are looking forward to the date, well, I think you may end up just as disappointed as Addison. But trust me on this one, it will still be a good chapter. It's going to be the next one though, just to really drive you crazy. In the meantime, please accept this offering instead.

Disclaimer: As before. And with reference to the disclaimer in the last chapter, you can consider Steve the Bartender as included in that.

As soon as Addison was safely out of the way, Alex set off in search of Michael. It was time to come clean. He wasn't particularly worried at how the other man would react; over the last weeks Alex had found himself taking to his boss, and knew him to be reasonable man.

Besides, although the gossip tree had nothing like the same juicy offering as at Seattle Grace, there were still a few morsels to be had, and most of them tended to relate to Michael Newton-Jones. A gifted doctor, intelligent, and extremely charming, he had had more wives that hot dinners and had an unfortunate penchant for nubile young nurses. Turns out Seattle Grace doctors didn't have the monopoly on screwed up personal lives. Perhaps that was why they got on, Alex reflected.

He wondered if Michael might still be at the reception, but he wasn't sure it was the wisest thing in the world to go back in there; he knew how conspicuous he and Addison would have been by their sudden departure and continuing absence. Besides, it was bound to be all over and done with by now.

He made his way to Michael's office, but to his annoyance was greeted, if you could call it that, by his dragon of a secretary. 'Yes?' Her tone was positively arctic.

'I'm after Michael, do you know where he is?'

'Mr Newton-Jones was attending a surgical drinks reception this afternoon,' she said in a hoity toity tone.

Alex groaned to himself quietly. This woman was bloody hard work, and had a reputation for guarding her position as Michael's personal assistant with a jealous ferocity. 'Yes, as was I,' he replied, trying his hardest to curb his impatience. 'But that's over and I was hoping he might be here. I need to speak with him.'

'I can take a message.'

From the way she said it, he could already see the sheet of paper she wrote it on sitting at the bottom of her wastepaper basket. 'No thank you. I need to _speak _with him.'

'Well, he is a doctor. You could always try one of his wards. I believe it is time for afternoon rounds,' she said sarcastically.

Alex didn't bother thanking her (being that unhelpful couldn't possibly deserve gratitude) and hurried off to the surgical wards. Michael's speciality was cardiothoracics so he would probably be on that ward… if only he knew where the cardio ward actually was.

Fortunately he was saved from having to embark on yet another futile adventure around the hospital when he saw the man he was looking for standing by an elevator. He broke into a light jog to catch up with him before the doors opened.

'Michael, do you have a minute?'

'For you Alex, of course.' He indicated towards the elevator, the doors of which had just slid open with a tinny ping. 'Come with me. I'm on my way to a consult on a three year old in need of a replacement heart valve due to a birth defect. Not exactly your field, but interesting nonetheless.'

Alex was thankful as the doors shut again with only the two of them inside. 'It's, uh, about Addison.'

The older man smiled knowingly. 'Ah, I thought it might be. You and the lovely Ms Montgomery did disappear rather swiftly earlier.'

'Actually, I was paged and Addison came with…' He realised he was getting sidetracked. Michael was a busy man and he knew a few minutes was all he was going to get. 'I think it is as well to tell you now that she and I… Well, it was something and nothing really. We were never involved at all, but –'

'You did sleep together,' Michael finished, a stern look on his face.

'Uh, yes,' Alex squirmed, feeling like a schoolboy.

Then, to his relief, Michael laughed. 'Oh relax Alex, you should have seen your face. I appreciate it that you felt it necessary to come and tell me – it was definitely the right thing to do – but you really didn't need to.'

'I didn't?'

'No. You'd have to be blind not to see the steam rising off the pair of you earlier.'

Alex thought for a moment how he would have reacted had anyone from Seattle just made that comment. He'd have knocked their heads off, even Izzie's. He wasn't going to do that to Michael, but a line had to be drawn, boss or not. 'It may be as well to warn you that Addison is a slightly sore subject for me, and I suspect I may be for her,' he said, as diplomatically as he could.

'That's your exceedingly polite way of telling me to keep my comments to myself I don't want to court a bloody nose, isn't it?' Luckily Michael did not seem at all perturbed by the warning.

'Well,' said Alex, a little more relaxed now, 'I thought it only fair to warn you.'

'Quite right. Now, to do the "boss" bit, if you don't mind me asking, is this likely to affect your ability to work together?'

'No,' Alex replied emphatically. 'That's what I wanted to say to you. Addison and I are a long way into the past now, and I can say, absolutely categorically, for myself and for her as well, that it would never, ever get in the way of our jobs and our standard of patient care. She is the consummate professional at all times, and, in fact, so am I. I can guarantee it.'

Michael nodded, but Alex couldn't help but feel that he looked a little unconvinced, and told him so.

'It isn't that I doubt your word Alex,' he answered. 'In fact, I can think of very few people I know whose word I trust _more_, but you seem so very sure that whatever there was between you is dead and buried. From what I saw this afternoon, I would dispute that.'

Alex sighed. It would be so easy if that spark _was _dead and buried, but he feared Michael might be right. 'Look, for me, Addison was always the one that got away,' he explained. _Or the one that I utterly fucked up. _'And I can't say for definite that at some point in the future perhaps things might happen again. But I can tell you, for certain, that whatever goes on,' _However badly I screw up, _'we will be able to maintain a cordial working relationship.'

'You sound as if you know that for a fact.'

Alex laughed wryly. 'Believe me Michael, this is a tried and tested situation.'

'Well, in that case, I will take you at your word. And Addison at your word as well. You must know her rather well to be able to speak for her,' he probed.

He sidestepped the question. 'Thank you about this. If the, uh, situation changes, I will inform you. I trust that this conversation will go no further, by the way?'

'Of course not. I am not a fan of gossip, so you won't find me doing anything to perpetuate the problem.'

Alex suppressed a smile; from what he had heard, Michael perpetuated it with every new divorce proceedings. 'Thank you.'

'Not a problem. Just so you know though, I do not tolerate my doctors bringing their personal lives into the workplace.' Alex raised an eyebrow, and Michael caught the question. 'I do quite enough of that for everyone, as you have obviously heard. I'm leaving this one in your hands Alex. I trust you.'

The elevator doors opened. 'Do you want to do observe this consult?' Michael offered.

'Um, thank you but no. I…'

'Of course you did,' he pre-empted him. 'I know nice French place down by the river if you need any ideas.'

Alex shook his head. If this was what Michael was like, God forbid that Izzie should ever find out. She'd be out buying a hat the second she was off the phone.

'I'm going now. Enjoy your consult.'

'Enjoy your dinner,' he countered.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: All right, I may have told a small lie in my last author's note. When I told you you were going to have to wait until this chapter for the dinner, I might not have been absolutely correct. Now I've started writing it, it would appear that you will have to wait until the _next _chapter for the dinner itself. Here is finally where the bartender makes a reappearance – yeah, I liked him too, he seemed to crop back up again.

It was kindly brought to my attention that the "buying the hat" phrase might not make sense to some people. If you're from the UK and watched Saturday night TV in the nineties, you will doubtless remember that being something of a catchphrase for Cilla Black in Blind Date. If you have no idea at all what I'm talking about, "Blind Date" was a gameshow where random people got sent on holiday together (in a nutshell) then came back the following week to reveal how they got along. If the extended date went well, and the couple were going to make a go of it, the presenter would make some sort of comment regarding buying a hat for the wedding. Certainly everyone I know uses the phrase widely, but I don't know if it's a national thing. Not an international thing, clearly, though, so that's the explanation.

And I would also like to thank those of you who have let me know that you like the character of Michael. It's always extremely satisfying to create a character from scratch that people take to. So, thank you. And I'm going to stop talking now…

Disclaimer: As before.

After he was done with Michael, Alex made his way back to his hotel. Just for once, the tube wasn't teaming with people, and he enjoyed the luxury of actually getting a seat. He sat back, staring blankly ahead of him, just like everyone else did, withdrawing into his own world.

What did today mean? On one hand, he was comforted by the fact that he hadn't spent the last seven years of his life living in solitude on a memory of something that had long since ceased to exist, because whatever else today had (or hadn't) told him, there was definitely a spark that was still very much alive. To counter that though, he had moved to England for a new start.

He had genuinely believed it was time to wipe the slate clean and maybe even find someone else, but seeing her again had completely blown that out of the water. There would be no chance of that now. Just over an hour, a mere hour, in her company and already he could see that she was all of things that she had always been, that had drawn him to her from the start, even when he thought he hated her. She was beautiful and intimidating, and still knew exactly how to yank his chain, but still had that air of vulnerability around her that had taken him a while to discover. Sometimes, he felt so privileged to witness that side to her as well. He knew how few people she ever allowed to see it.

But… God, this was a problem. Just because he was seven years older, seven years more mature, it didn't mean that he was seven years less screwed up, or that he could do this any better this time around. Part of him wanted to try though. He couldn't exactly do _worse _than he did last time after all. It was… petrifying though. He had run about as far as you could do without actually acknowledging you were running, and it hadn't been far enough. She had run too, to the same place. He thought that perhaps that was all that mattered. If, of all the hospitals in all the countries of all the world, they both managed to find their way to the same one, well… perhaps that said it all.

When he got back to his hotel, he decided that he needed a drink, and the stronger the better. He needed his head to stop spinning in order to give himself a chance to think. Over the last six weeks, he had been so busy with work he rarely had the energy to venture very far when he got home from the hospital that on the evenings he did fancy a drink, he usually found himself in the hotel bar. The bartender he had met when he was first here for his job interview was called Steve, and Alex had struck up what was approaching a friendship with him.

'Hey,' Alex slid onto a stool, and leant wearily against the bar.

'You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders mate,' Steve replied.

'Something like that, actually.'

'Would a beer help?' He was already reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a cold bottle of Budweiser, which was generally Alex's beer of choice. He didn't go in for these traditional English ales.

'When did it not?' Alex said gratefully, savouring those first few sips. The rest of the bottle never tasted as good as at the start.

'So?' Steve had adopted that casual bartender pose of half resting an arm on the bar, polishing glasses with a towel. It had "a problem shared is a problem halved" or some trite crap written all over it. Alex knew that he would end up talking though, he had already discovered there wasn't much point in trying to fight it.

'Eventful day,' he said. He was going to make him work for it; there was no fun in the exchange otherwise.

'Didn't think you were working today.'

'I wasn't, but I had to go in and meet a new consultant joining my department.'

'Oh?' Silence. 'And how did that go?'

Alex sighed. It was still sinking in to be honest, that Addison was actually in London, back in his life. This time yesterday, he had no idea of the impending hurricane that was about to envelope him. 'You remember the first night I was here, and you decided that there was a girl involved?'

'Which you denied, as I seem to recall.'

'Guess who the new consultant is.'

'She's a doctor?'

'Actually, she used to be my boss.'

Steve nodded approvingly. 'So, how long has it been since you last saw her?'

'Seven years.' When he said it out loud, he couldn't help but laugh wryly at how pathetic it sounded. How can you still be in love with someone you haven't seen for seven years? 'Seven years,' he repeated, 'and I haven't so much as spoken to her in all that time. And now…'

'Did she follow you here?'

He shook his head. 'No, she had no idea until she saw me today.'

'How did she react?' He could gauge Steve's level of interest by the fact that the glass he had been polishing had, along with the towel, been put aside, and he was no longer even keeping up the pretence of doing any work. There was a middle aged couple at the other end of the bar who were trying to attract his attention for a top up of their gin and tonics, but he was oblivious to them.

'Well, all things considered. But that's Addison, always in control, always dignified.' _Except… _He allowed his mind to wander just for a moment, before firmly dragging it back to the present. 'It'll be good to work with her again.'

'Mate, the love of your life has suddenly reappeared and all you can think of is _working _with her again?'

'When did I say she was the love of my life? Besides, it's complicated. Working with her is part of being with her, because her work is so much of who she is. I don't know, I can't explain. I never could explain it. Just, she's beautiful and fascinating and I've never known anyone like her.'

'See, love of your life,' Steve said with satisfaction. 'So, what now?'

'Nothing. I screwed it up, and I don't deserve my slate to be wiped clean simply because several years have passed. I just need to make sure that we can work together.'

'Yeah, because _that's _all that matters. Jesus Alex, I've never met anyone who thinks about work as much as you do. You need to have a think about what's important to you.'

Alex knew what Steve was getting at, and appreciated the point, but he was wrong. Being a brilliant and gifted surgeon was an enormous part of who Addison was, it was something that she had been able to hold on to while her personal life splintered and fractured, and he knew it was something that she valued. That need to be the best at work, because sometimes it was the one thing that was in your control, she understood that. And he wanted her to see that in him.

He couldn't explain that to Steve though. He was hopelessly ineloquent when trying to explain in to himself.

'Anyway,' he said, not exactly changing the subject, but at least taking it off in a different direction. 'I needed to ask you a favour.'

'Fire away.'

'Where's a good place to eat? Somewhere nearish, or in the city maybe. I don't mind what it costs but not one of those places where I'm not going to know which knife and fork to use.'

Steve grinned. 'You bastard. You could have told me you were taking her out to dinner. Perhaps you're not quite such as lost cause as I thought you were Alex Karev.'

'Yeah yeah, I was saving the best til last, okay? So, where do you think?'

The barman was positively glowing in excitement. 'Leave the _whole _thing to me. I'll book you a table somewhere and sort it all out. You concentrate on getting yourself ready. What time are you meant to be meeting her? Where's she staying and I'll send a cab to pick her up.'

He should have guessed the laid back Steve was a closet romantic. The guy had sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to follow the girl he loved, after all. He could imagine the sort of thing he would set up though, and it wouldn't do at all. He had given Addison enough mixed signals and wrong ideas to be far too wary to do so now. It wouldn't be fair on her to allow a softly lit, romantic dinner for two imply things he wasn't sure he was capable of following up on.

'Woah, hold on a minute. Don't go booking something romantic. No vendors selling cellophane wrapped red roses out of a wicker basket, and no serenading violinists. And there's no need to send a cab for her, she's far too independent to consider that a compliment.'

Steve's face fell. 'I thought…'

'No, it's far too early for any of that yet. I want to apologise and clear the air, not mess her up all over again.'

'There's nothing wrong with a bit of romance.'

'Tonight, there is,' he said emphatically. 'I mean it mate. Please do this my way.'

'Fine,' Steve replied with an air of martyrdom. 'But I'm going to want to meet her.'


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Would you think I was crazy if I told you that I had no idea this story had got as far as chapter ten already? No wonder so many of you are so keen for the date to happen – I didn't plan to have spun the build up out _quite _this long! But thank you to those who think that approach has worked and were kind enough to tell me so: I happen to agree.

Disclaimer: As before. And no, the barman wasn't based on the one from Sex and the City. Never watched it. So the similarity is a coincidence. To be honest, the barman is based on Joe as much as anyone, not Joe specifically, but more the concept of Joe – the friendly barman who always likes to know what's going on.

The butterflies that had been bugging her ever since she first saw him this afternoon had gone into overdrive at around six o'clock when Alex called to say he'd booked a table at one of the restaurants on the Haymarket if that would be all right, and that he'd meet her at Leicester Square tube station at eight, again adding a casual "if that's all right with you?"

It was in the theatre district so it should be bustling, interesting, a vibrant sort of a place. 'That would be great.'

'Fine, I'll see you at eight.'

The intervening two hours had been a panic of discarded outfits as she had laid out pretty much every item of clothing she had with her (there were many suitcases and boxes waiting in storage in L.A. to be shipped over as soon as she found herself somewhere more permanent to live). Nothing seemed quite right. Her dressy things were too dressy, her work things were too worky, and her casual things… well, she didn't exactly have any casual things.

In the end, she threw on the first thing she grabbed from the top of the pile as all of a sudden it was twenty to eight and she was running catastrophically late. A quick look in the mirror before she dashed out of the door told her it wasn't a bad effort though. A simple midnight blue dress, not too short, not too low, but of a nice silky material that flowed with the movement of her body. Hopefully, it would be okay. A pair of vertiginous heels to finish it off, of course.

As she rose up the elevator out of the bowels of the underground, only a miraculous ten minutes late, Addison looked around. She was sure he would be there already, probably thinking all sorts of things of her for being late. She stepped off the elevator, getting jostled in the process and thinking that the pumps with heels in the handbag idea of earlier was perhaps one she should have repeated this evening. Then…

There he was.

He was standing, waiting for her, just on the other side of the ticket barriers. Her heart stopped at the sight of him. He was wearing black trousers, possibly the same ones as earlier, but with a blue shirt this time, open necked and casual. He was… beautiful. Simple as that. In soul as well as body, if only he would let it show from time to time. Perhaps tonight he would do; you never knew with Alex.

She walked up to him a little awkwardly. 'Sorry I'm late.'

He smiled, and it was dazzling. 'Don't worry about it, I knew you would be.'

A small furrow passed across her brow. 'How?'

This time the smile was more like a smirk. 'Well, I only gave you two hours to get ready. No woman can get ready in that time. My guess was that you were going to take three at least.'

She sputtered, outraged, for a moment or two before the smirk disappeared and was replaced by something altogether more serious. 'Don't worry about it Addison. It was worth it.'

'Huh?' How did he do that, completely steal her ability to form words?

'It was worth waiting for you. You look beautiful.'

_Oh. Ohh. _

By the time they were onto their main courses, Alex knew he had to get to the point. Spending time with her, indulging in that gentle banter, bordering on flirtation that was based more on looks than words; it just made him feel alive again. He had gone from automaton back to human, and it was because of her. Which made this doubly, trebly hard.

'Addison, I… I think we need to talk.'

She stared at him, that wide eyed stare that he knew meant she was at her most vulnerable. God, if only she wouldn't look at him like that. 'We should… If we're going to be working together…' He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak coherently. He was a man for Christ's sake, it wasn't meant to be _this _hard.

'I feel like I owe you an explanation.'

She wanted to tell him, no, it was a long time ago, forgotten and in the past, but she wouldn't have meant it. After seven years, she still wanted to know. She needed to know why he pushed her away like that. What did she do wrong? 'Okay,' she said slowly.

'I'm not intending this to come out as an excuse, because I know the way I treated you was inexcusable, but I don't _do _relationships. I _can't _do relationships. After everything you had been through with Derek and Sloan, you needed someone who could look after you, who could… barbeque, and teach children to play catch.'

Addison frowned. Those words sounded familiar. In fact, they were her words. How the Hell…? 'I _wanted _someone to barbeque and play catch. I _needed _you.'

He shook his head.

'Alex, for all that you hurt me, and you _did _hurt me, most of the time, you treated me a lot better than Derek or Mark did. You were there, you cared. _You noticed. _Do you have any idea how long it had been since someone had noticed me?'

'It doesn't matter. I couldn't… I got to see what Derek and Sloan did to you, how they hurt you, the way your face changed when one of them would say something. It was like you'd been stabbed. I didn't want to be a person who did that to you as well.'

'Who's to say you would have done?'

'Me,' he answered firmly. 'Pushing you away then was bad enough, how much worse would you have felt if I had done that six months or a year later? If I did to you what I did to Izzie that time?'

'I…' In a way, he was right, but was it his choice to have made? Couldn't she have been given the chance to make up her mind for herself? To take the risk? 'You could have let me choose for myself,' she said finally.

'Perhaps,' he replied, but she knew he hadn't convinced him.

'You know,' he said suddenly, 'for what it's worth, and though I hate to admit it, but Sloan really did love you.'

Addison looked at him across the table for a long time. Yes, Mark had loved her, in as far as he was able to, but it wasn't _right. _Derek always stood between them, an insurmountable obstacle. She reached out, and gently laid her hand on his cheek, taking them both back to a lonely night a long time ago. She felt him lean a little into her touch, and his breath tickled the soft skin on the underside of her wrist. 'And what about you Alex, did you really love me?'

There was sadness in his eyes as he answered. 'Does it matter now?'

'It does to me. It shouldn't, I know. You left me hurt, and humiliated, and well and truly kicked me while I was down. But… yes. It matters.'

'Then yes,' he admitted simply. 'I did really love you.'

She wanted, desperately, to ask about now, but she didn't want to push too far. That the closed off Alex Karev had opened up so much was nothing short of a miracle. Or else he really had grown up. Instead, she asked another question that had been burning on her mind.

'What about Ava? Or Rebecca, or…?'

Shutters came down over his eyes, and once again he was the old, guarded Karev that she remembered. Someone who had been hurt and was reluctant to let anyone close enough for it to happen again. 'She was committed to a residential psych facility about six years ago. As far as I know, she's still there.'

Oh God. Oh, that wasn't good at all.

Alex seemed to sense he had scared her off asking any more with his tight lipped response and smiled at her gently. 'I was with Izzie for a while after that,' he continued. 'Nearly three years in fact. But it just petered out. She's my best friend, and she calls me here most days, but as a couple, we just didn't work.'

_No Ava or Izzie? No Derek or Mark? Just… them? _Was she crazy, or might they have a chance here?

Somehow, in the conversation, the bill seemed to have been paid, and they were wandering along the street. The silence that had fallen between them wasn't awkward, but it was as if they had to acknowledge something far bigger than the past if they were to continue with the conversation.

They were at Trafalgar Square, sitting on the edge of the fountain before Addison began to pluck up the courage to speak again. Lights were reflecting on the surface of the water, and she reached out to touch them. He caught her hand, and they sat there, suspended in the moment.

'What now?' she asked eventually, her voice no more than a whisper.

His fingers were playing with hers, and she was afraid they were going to stop when she asked the question, but they didn't.

'I don't want to give you the wrong idea. I don't know that I'm any more capable of a relationship than I was last time around. I've – we've both – started a new job in a new place. I… I honestly don't know if "now" is a good idea.'

She could hear his words, but it was his eyes that were really doing the talking. Their velvet brown depths were gazing at her so intensely that she felt herself being sucked in, falling, drowning. She was leaning towards him, and he wasn't pulling away.

'Maybe not, but don't you think we owe it to ourselves to try? To find out?'

'I don't want to hurt you again.'

'You might not.'

'But I might.'

They were so close now Addison could feel his breath on her lips, almost hear the pounding of his heart. Or was that hers? She couldn't tell anymore.

'Addison,' she heard him whisper, his voice husky.

'Alex…'

Then the moment was broken as a drunk couple reeled towards them, the girl tripping over Alex's leg. They sprang apart and Alex rose to help the girl back onto her feet.

'I'm sho – sso shurry,' the girl slurred.

'Not a problem. Are you all right?' She didn't seem to be hurt – drunk people always had an incredible ability to bounce – but he held her arm for a moment while she tried in vain to regain her balance. Once she'd found just enough to be able to stagger away on the arm of her boyfriend, giggling foolishly, Alex sat back down. The magic had gone though.

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly. 'Maybe for the best.'

Addison smiled with resignation. She wasn't sure she trusted herself to speak. They had been so close, so damn close.

'Time to go I think. I have a shift in the morning.' He rose to his feet and offered her a gentlemanly hand. 'Friends?' he asked.

_How to answer that? _

'Okay Alex. Friends.'


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter – too many of you to thank individually without taking up half the page. To be honest, I'm just glad you're not coming after me with hatchets and cudgels for the cruelty of the previous chapter. Although the story is getting to be a bit of a tome, Alex and Addison are still on their first day together. Wouldn't want to rush things now, would I?! By the way, this could be my last update for a while, a good week or so, and probably nearer two. I'm about to move house so will be without the internet until it's activated at the new address. On the upside though, I'll still be writing, so once it is up and running again, you should get some more regular updates.

Disclaimer: As before.

Alex groaned. It was four in the morning, and he hadn't so much as closed his eyes yet. Shift work screwed with your body clock, and he'd never been a great sleeper to start with, but this… this was full blown insomnia. His mind was racing, thoughts swirling, memories prodding at him until he thought his head was going to explode (medically unlikely, admittedly, but the way he was feeling, he definitely couldn't rule out the possibility).

It was his own fault of course. Friends. _Friends? _What sort of stupid question had that been? Where were all the explanations? Not the poor excuse for an explanation he had come out with, but all the things he'd really meant to say. That he'd never meant to feel this way, but in those early days after the divorce, she'd seemed so broken, so in need of a friend, that you would have had to have had a heart of stone not to throw her a lifebelt, and that's what he'd done. To start with.

Then there was how he had gotten to know her… well, you couldn't fail but admire her skill, her composure. Every day she walked into that hospital to face the fragmented splinters of her former life, haunted by the twin ghosts of Derek and Sloan, and every day she was nothing less than professional. She stalked those halls striking fear into the hearts of less robust interns as if she didn't have a care in the world. Yet, just under the surface, there was this beautiful, vulnerable woman who just needed a someone to notice her. If only you took the time to look for her.

Alex would never have had himself pegged as the person to find that side of a woman, but then, he knew he had hidden depths himself that you had to dig pretty deeply for. And somehow, Addison, without ever trying to, had uncovered them. Perhaps it was because she hadn't demanded anything from him that he had found himself wanting to offer it anyway.

_Friends?_

He didn't want to be her friend. He wanted… He loved her. He wanted to _be _her lover. When you stripped away all the excuses and bullshit, that was all it came down to. He wished he trusted himself to be able to go for it. But he didn't, that was what he wanted to explain.

When Ava had told him about overhearing Addison and Callie's conversation, all he could think was how much Addison _deserved _some good, decent guy who would give her the family she wanted, the house in the suburbs with the white picket fence, the happy ending. That wasn't him, it could never be him. He could bring her coffee and make her smile, and defend her against Derek and Sloan and their stinging remarks. He could work with her, and save a life with her. He could kiss her, and make love to her. But he couldn't be the person she wanted. He couldn't then, and he didn't think he could now. Apart from growing up, not a whole lot had changed. He was still Alex Karev, screwed up Alex Karev. And she deserved better.

He rolled over in bed and sat up, flicking the light on. He needed to tell her all this. There was no use lying in bed thinking it all; the whole reason for asking her to dinner tonight was to explain it all properly. Not to offer some half hearted "I'm sorry I hurt you, I was trying to protect you" crap.

It was four in the morning though. You couldn't exactly call someone at four in the morning, even if you did want to bare your soul to them. A part of him wanted to think that he wasn't the only one lying awake in emotional turmoil tonight, but he didn't flatter himself by believing that.

But then, if it was the other way round, he'd want her to call. He reached out for his cellphone, but just as his fingertips touched it, it trilled into life.

He taken by surprise, and answered it without looking at the caller ID. 'Hello?'

'I'm sorry, I know it's the middle of the night over there, but I really, really wanted to tell you something.'

All he really registered was that it wasn't Addison. All he really cared about was that it wasn't Addison. 'Hey Izzie,' he said wearily. 'I was awake anyway, it's fine.' Damn it, he was actually going to do it, he was going to call her – by the time he got off the phone to Izzie the moment would be lost. It already was.

'I know I normally call you at work…'

'I mean it, don't worry about it. What's your news?'

'Well, it's not really _my _news, but I had to tell you anyway. I was having lunch with Cristina, who had been having coffee with Meredith,' Alex's head began to spin at the convoluted paper trail, '…who said that Derek had been talking to an old college friend of his that Addison used to work with in California.'

'I see,' he said, although he wasn't sure that he did. He _could _see where this was going though. Less than a day. She'd been here less than a day and already everyone knew.

'Anyway, apparently Addison has left California. This amazing job came up, and she just went.'

'Right…'

'And you will _never _guess where she's gone.'

'Oh, I think I can,' Alex replied wryly, but Izzie didn't hear him in her excitement.

'London. She's in London Alex. I don't know where, but I'm sure I can find out for you.' _Oh, I bet you can_, he thought. 'Oh, isn't it like _fate_, or _destiny _or something?'

'I don't believe in fate.' Which he didn't. Fate and Destiny belonged in fairytales and Disney stories and happy endings that didn't happen in his life.

'Alex, I know you don't like it when I talk about her, but why not? What really happened? I've just told you that you're living in the same city as her and you're not even excited, or happy, or anything. I've called you in the middle of the night, and you haven't even reacted.'

'Izzie. I don't have a right to be excited or happy or anything when it comes to Addison okay? I screwed up. I screwed it up with her worse than I ever did with you, although not in the same way. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me.'

'Alex, has it ever occurred to you that you're really not that bad a catch? You're kind and sweet, even though you'd rather die than for people to know that. You're an amazing doctor. You're a good person.'

They'd had this argument over and over. During their relationship, and after it, as friends. It always ended with him falling into silence and her giving up.

'I'm going to go now.'

'Come on, talk to me Alex. What did you do? Just find her, and say sorry. Whatever it was, it's worth taking a chance, isn't it?'

'What makes you think that after seven years she'd even remember me, let alone more than that?'

'You're kidding me, right? You don't honestly believe that?'

'No,' he conceded. 'But it isn't going to just fall into place. This is real life Izzie, not some romantic movie.'

'Just think about it. I'm sure if you asked around, you could find out where she is. There can't be many newly arrived American Neo-Natal Surgeons in London.'

'It's not that simple.'

'Why not?'

He said his goodbyes, and hung up without answering the question. Her words echoed in his ears though.

_Why not?_

He glanced back at the phone, then turned the light off, and rested his head on the pillow again. It was going to be a long, lonely wait until morning.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: I am blessed with the internet again – sorry it's taken a while but you know how these things are

Author's Note: I am blessed with the internet again – sorry it's taken a while but you know how these things are. Not as long as the internet people told me it would, so I suppose they're justified in taking my money each month. Thank you for all the reviews, nice to check my emails again after so long and have something interesting waiting for me. I hope you judge this update to be worth the long wait for it, it sort of moves things along a little, timewise. Twelve chapters are quite enough for pretty much one day in the life of the story!

Disclaimer: As before

It _was _a long, lonely night, just as he had known it would be. As was the one after, and all the ones that followed. It was amazing, and not in a good way, how quickly he and Addison had fallen into the "colleagues" bracket again.

After that first night, Alex had every intention of saying something the next day, all the things he'd been thinking before Izzie called. He had it all planned out – he would go and buy her a vanilla latte from Starbucks (for old times sake, and to remind her of one of his better moments) on his way home from work and stop by her hotel. Then he would tell her, and everything would fall into place. Well, it wouldn't happen _precisely _like that, because they didn't live in a romantic movie, but he'd apologise, and ask for another chance, and maybe, just maybe, she'd give him one.

But work went crazy, as if every baby born in London that day was seriously ill and needed to be transferred to his department, and every surgery he did ran into lengthy complications. In the end, he didn't get out of theatre until two in the morning, and he didn't get home at all, let alone to her hotel. He didn't get a spare moment to breathe, let alone call her. But it was okay. He could go tomorrow.

Except the same thing happened the next day, and time just seemed to slip away from him. Then it had been three days since they went out to dinner and it sort of seemed rude to finish off a conversation he'd deliberately left unfinished. By the time she started work on the Monday, it _definitely_ seemed rude.

So he hadn't said a word. He could tell she was a little hurt by his apparent indifference, but he was painting himself into a corner and didn't know how to turn things around. He was making up for it with the work though. God, it was good to work with her again. He had a good team, two great Registrars and a selection of SHOs that he could really rely on, but with Addison… Every surgery was a pleasure. When she was assisting him, he never had to ask for suction, or a clamp, it was right there before the thought had even finishing formulating in his head.

Sometimes he got distracted a little by her hands, or more specifically, their hands. It wasn't quite the same with latex gloves and a film of their patient's blood, but the way their hands _worked _together fascinated him. It was like having another pair of hands. He thought he hid it pretty well, but once she caught him staring and he was treated to a very condescending _'Karev…' _delivered in such a delicious sounding warning tone it distracted him in a whole different way. But apart from the odd moment like that, it was strictly professional, and it was driving him insane.

Michael, being Michael, could pick up sexual tension a mile off. Addison was taking a rare day off (her first, in fact, since she'd started) to move into the apartment she'd just purchased, and Alex was scrubbing out after assisting on a cleft palate repair. Michael was waiting for him.

'Successful?' he said, sauntering in.

'Yes. And fascinating,' Alex replied. 'Assisting Edwards on a cleft palate repair. I used to want to go into Plastics when I was first starting out so it was pretty cool to get an in on that.'

'Nice,' Michael agreed. 'Come on, I have some decent coffee brewing in my office. Better than that rubbish they serve in Starbucks; all foam and no coffee.' Starbucks and chain coffee shops in general were a frequent victim of Michael's insults. There was a Starbucks on the corner and he refused point blank to drink anything from there; he kept a tin of something Costa Rican or Colombian or anything equally expensive under lock and key.

Alex could feel him waiting to pounce, lowering his defences with the good coffee. They hadn't been sitting there long before it happened.

'I was observing the surgery you and Addison were doing on the Aktar baby yesterday. It really was beautiful you know.'

'It was only a –'

'Not the procedure Alex. I honestly do not think, in all the years I've been doing this, I have ever seen two surgeons so in tune with each other. Not a word passed between you in three hours. You didn't _need _words. Like I say, _beautiful._'

Alex shook his head. 'Don't start Michael.'

'Well, it strikes me that perhaps someone needs to, as no doubt an American would say, give you a kick up the ass. The lovely Addison has been with us for a month now and apart from one dinner, I haven't heard of any gossip.'

'I thought you didn't approve of gossip,' Alex said, rolling his eyes.

'I don't. Unless it is interesting, about people I like, and delivered in a tasteful manner. It rarely fulfils all those criteria, therefore as a general rule, you are correct, I don't like gossip.'

'Plus it makes it a helluva lot harder for you to stay one step ahead of your wife?' he asked with a raised eyebrow.

'Well, that too,' Michael admitted. 'But we are moving away from the point.'

'Sorry, remind me what that was again?'

'Ah, you're quite good at this game Alex,' the older man said appreciatively. 'I never thought you would be, being American. Banter is such a _British _thing, after all, and I do enjoy it.'

'I'm glad I'm a source of amusement to you.'

'It's a source of amusement watching you and Addison anyway. Now tell me, are you ever actually going to get off your backside and do anything about it? She's terribly beautiful, a fantastic surgeon as well, I wouldn't wait forever if I was you. Half the consultants in London are talking about her, you know.'

'Stop it Michael, I'm not taking the bait.' He sipped his coffee casually. A month of Izzie nagging him about finding out where Addison was in London was hardening him off nicely to these little assaults.

'You bloody well need to.'

'It really isn't your business.'

'So you wouldn't mind if I took her out to dinner then?'

Alex felt whatever he was about to say next be completely knocked out of him. Addison and _Michael? _That was just… Well, it… Against his will, his mind conjured the image of Addison with another man. It began as being Michael, but it quickly morphed into Sloan, and he felt his fingers curl into a fist, his blood start to boil with jealousy. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself. No matter how angry it was, it wouldn't be a good idea to punch his boss, even if he damn deserved it.

'If that was meant to be funny…'

'It wasn't. But it was designed to be that kick up the ass I was talking about.'

'I don't appreciate it.' There was a steely hint in his tone and his eyes were absolutely jet black.

'All right, all right. For goodness' sake, if you're that sensitive about her, tell her, don't sock me on the jaw because you don't have the balls to face up to it. I admire you enormously Alex, you're a man of his word, a gifted surgeon, and you are blessed with a bedside manner that does not come naturally to surgeons. You've also been in love with the same woman for years and years, and faithful to the memory of her for most of those.' Michael had managed to extract the majority of the story from him over the last four weeks since Addison had arrived. 'Don't screw that up now.'

'I've told you over and over Michael, it isn't that simple. I treated her badly, and I got what I deserved – she left. I pretty much drove her away. Not that I can really take the credit for all of it, but I didn't help. I've still got a lot of ground to make up.'

'Alex, I've seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she's waiting on you right now.'

'I don't think so. What makes you so sure?'

'I've had four wives, six mistresses, and an awful lot of women in between. I don't claim to be any good at all at the sort of thing I'm sure you would do well at, marriage and monogamy and love and all, but one thing I _do _know about more than anything else is the thrill of the chase.' He paused to drain his coffee and put the mug down on the desk with a certain finality. 'And exactly when a woman is ready to give in.'


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: I'm going to take this opportunity to do a little bit of shameless plugging

Author's Note: I'm going to take this opportunity to do a little bit of shameless plugging. I've recently posted the first chapter of a little two parter set after the season three finale (yes, us Brits are somewhat out of date I'm afraid) and if you're enjoying this story, I think you'll like it. It's called Whiskey and Fear and you can find it in my profile. But anyway, back to this one. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and hope you like this one. By the way, I apologise for the estate agent in me coming out - you'll see where – I've tried to rein it in as best I can, but at the end of the day, it's my job to say nice things about houses, it's completely engrained. I could have launched into an entire chapter's description, but I didn't think you'd appreciate it.

Disclaimer: As before.

Addison flopped onto her new sofa (a rich mocha colour and covered in the softest suede she'd ever felt – the minute her hand brushed against it in the furniture store, she _had _to have it) and surveyed her surroundings. When she'd been in Seattle, she had to admit, she kind of liked living in a hotel; everything was so easy, so _there_, but she'd bought a house when she moved to California and loved having this space all of her own. She could do what she liked with it, in it, and that beautiful house on the beach, where she could watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean as she sat on the deck sipping a glass of chilled pinot grigio, had been where she had healed herself.

So she'd decided that she was going to buy something here in London as well. She'd had three days before she started work at the hospital, and she used every second of those to trawl around estate agents, looking at house after apartment after house. Plus it had the added advantage of keeping her extremely busy, which meant that she didn't have a spare second to reflect (obsess) that Alex hadn't called. On the third day, quite late in the afternoon and just as she was giving up hope, one of the estate agents (she was beginning to get quite familiar with some of them) thought of something that "might be suitable".

The minute she'd stepped inside the door, she knew it was perfect. It was a penthouse apartment, the entire top floor of a converted Victorian warehouse, and she'd never been so in love with anything in her life. As it was the only property on the top floor, the elevator opened straight into the main room, which was an enormous open plan kitchen, sitting room and dining room, with views for miles right out over London. Everything was painted in soft creams with some rustic wooden beams and some fireplaces that she was sure were far too ornate to be original – this was a warehouse, after all – but they were beautiful and the agent told her they'd been salvaged from an old Victorian house around the corner before it was demolished so they were completely the right era. The bedrooms (there were four of them, which was far more than she needed, but one was already earmarked as a walk in wardrobe) were at the far end, and there were oak floorboards all the way through, polished and oiled to a soft matt finish.

She'd put in an offer on the spot, and after a little bit of negotiation, the vendor was persuaded to accept a figure a little below the asking price, and 1, The Old Malthouse was hers. The deal had completed this morning and she had spent her precious day off moving in. It had been a long, exhausting day, but it was worth it now, looking around her. The place looked beautiful. And she really, really wanted to show it off to someone.

She glanced at the clock, wondering if Alex might have finished his shift yet. After all the unspoken passion of that first evening, things had becalmed into friendship, just as he had asked. They still laughed and joked, occasionally laced with a touch of flirtation, and sometimes she caught him staring at her with such an intensity in his eyes that it took her breath away (it was in a surgery and she'd had to tell him to stop else she'd have jumped him there and then), but apart from that, there hadn't been a hint of taking a step forward. But more than friends or not, there was still no-one she'd met in London that she'd rather celebrate her new home with than him. It was eight o'clock, so his shift would have finished an hour ago, but he rarely left the hospital before ten. He was bound to still be there, overseeing charts or maybe having a debrief of the day with Michael.

She dialled hers and Alex's direct line at the hospital, but was surprised at the answer she received.

'Look Izzie, I'm not in the mood for one of your lectures tonight. Can we not talk about Addison, just for once? Tell me about _you _or something. Who've _you _met recently, since you're so interested in _my_ sex life?'

Addison was utterly floored. What did he just say? Not only was she shocked that Alex had so naturally assumed the call was going to be from Izzie (how often must she call for him to think that?) but also what he'd said. In spite of herself, her heart was already beating wildly out of control. She tried to think up some sort of suitable response, but there wasn't one, of that she was sure.

'Hello? Iz? That better be you or I've just made an absolute prat of myself, probably to someone really important.' He sounded half amused, half horrified at the prospect the caller might not be Izzie, but she knew that if he realised it was her, his humour would swiftly dissipate.

She was a little tempted to hang up and spare them both the awkwardness, but against her better judgement, Addison sort of saw the funny side. Phone calls like this happened in high school, not when you were an adult and a doctor and supposedly mature.

'Uh, Alex, I'm not Izzie.'

She heard a choking noise down the phone, and possibly the sound of a coffee cup being knocked over as well. 'Addison? Shit.'

'Yeah. To both.' Then she laughed. He sounded acutely embarrassed and there was no way she wasn't going to exploit every last second of this. When had she ever had the chance to enjoy upper hand over him before? God, this was going to be good. 'I'm presuming that you weren't expecting me to call.'

'Um, no. I, uhh…' he stuttered uncertainly. He was racking his brains for something to say that could somehow erase the _horror _of what he'd just said. That wasn't putting your foot in it; that was… Not good. Not good at all.

'So, you talk about me then?' she asked coyly.

'Don't, Addison,' he said warningly.

'Why not? This is fun.' And then something occurred to her. 'What made you think I was Izzie?'

'She always calls around eight.'

'And does she call a lot?' Addison meant her tone to be teasing but she heard the note of jealousy ringing through it, grating like a note of music out of tune. Izzie had a hell of a lot more history with Alex than she did, and she couldn't help but be threatened by that. Even if, apparently, all they talked about was her.

'A fair bit,' he replied honestly, and she could almost hear him squirming in his oversized leather chair. 'Could we change the subject please?'

She was tempted to push things further, but she wanted him to come over tonight and hopefully there would be plenty of opportunity to wind him up then. 'Fine. I've just finished moving in. I was wondering if you wanted to come over and celebrate with me. I want to show the place off.'

'And you want me to come over? Is that a good idea?'

She groaned. Why did everything have to be so hard with him? 'Yes, Alex. I have a beautiful new home and you're my friend, the only real friend I have over here yet, and I would like you to come over and drink a bottle of wine with me, and tell me that you think it's lovely. Or that you hate it. Whichever.'

Alex felt guilty. She was just trying to be friendly, and she sounded excited about her new apartment, yet he'd just squashed her flat. Though it was more out of embarrassment than anything else. He couldn't believe she had heard him say that. He wanted to wither up, in a way he didn't think he had since he was in eighth grade and Kristy Henderson refused to go to the movies with him in the lunch queue right in front of everyone. How could he have been so stupid? And he could hear the annoyance in her voice. After all, they had agreed to be friends. Which had been his idea. Damn it.

'Sorry. I'm sorry. I'd love to come over. I've got about another half hour of charting left to do, then I'll be over. I'll bring a bottle,' he offered. 'Red or white?'

'Red. As long as you promise faithfully not to spill any on my new couch.'

'I promise,' he smiled. Typical Addison. 'I'll see you in about an hour.'


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Ooh, lots of lovely reviews on the last chapter, thank you very much. As always, it's great to hear that you're enjoying where this story is going. I'd love to make it to a hundred reviews with this next instalment, which without further ado, let me offer you. (By the way, it's a great big long chapter, get a cup of tea before you start reading!)

Disclaimer: As before.

Alex stood outside an impressively large red brick building, clutching a bottle of Napa Valley merlot and a bunch of tissue wrapped yellow roses that had seemed like a good idea at the time but was now sorely tempted to simply toss them in the trash, and looked dubiously up at the camera on the video entry system. He had a sinking feeling about tonight. Izzie (who'd called five minutes later demanding to know why his phone line was engaged at eight o'clock – he hadn't told her) and Michael and even Steve, back at the hotel, all seemed to think they knew how the story was going to end, but he still wasn't sure.

They weren't the falling into each others' arms and declaring their love type. It might work for romantic love-conquers-all dreamers like Izzie but he was too damaged to believe in that. And he suspected Addison was as well.

That didn't stop him feeling utterly pathetic in his nervousness though. He was behaving like a teenager, and it was really getting on his nerves. The whole phone call fiasco hadn't helped one little bit. What the Hell must she been thinking now? Especially after his whole damn "let's be friends" speech. Never mind that he'd called her Izzie. Women didn't like it when you called them the wrong name.

Already her name was above the buzzer for 1, The Old Malthouse on a little brass plaque. Posh. He grinned when he saw that she'd had it engraved as _Dr A. Montgomery_, despite her new consultant status. At the end of the day, she'd always be Doctor Montgomery.

He sighed, with the words _here goes _running clearly through his mind, and pressed the buzzer.

Almost immediately, her voice came over the intercom. 'Hey. At last. Come on up. I'm on the top floor; the elevator's on your left as you come into the hall.' Then he heard the sound of the door unlocking, and he pushed it open.

The entrance hall was unbelievable. For somewhere that was supposedly an old warehouse (she'd already told him, and anyone else she'd come across who made the mistake of asking about it, all about the apartment over the last month since she'd agreed to buy it), he didn't think he'd ever seen anywhere so _luxurious. _

The floor was some kind of traditional flagstone but sanded and oiled into an authentic looking uniformity and there were some large framed pictures, cityscapes in black and white, hanging on the crisp white walls. Deep, slate covered windowsills each had a vase of lilies sitting on them and there were green, leafy exotic looking plants in terracotta pots discreetly in corners. Everything looked edgy but classic, fashionable, clean, and so completely Addison. He could see why she loved it.

Following her instructions, he turned left and saw a row of three elevators in front of him. One of them pinged open just then and he stepped inside, noting the marble floors (in an elevator?) He pressed the button for her floor and waited.

The doors slid open into what, at the first look, appeared to be the penthouse version of paradise. The wall opposite him was almost entirely glass, and he could see what felt like the whole of London, lights twinkling in the dark for miles. There was an open fire roaring away and some soft blues was trickling out of unseen speakers. He wouldn't have really pegged Addison as into blues, but it suited him so he wasn't going to complain.

Of Addison though, there was no sign.

'Addison?' he called out, putting the wine and flowers down on the smooth black granite worktop that he saw off to the left.

'I'm here,' a voice came from one of the rooms at the far end of the loftspace. 'Sorry,' she said, emerging and making her way over to him, smiling widely. 'So, what do you think?'

Alex just stared. Not at the apartment, very nice though it seemed, he couldn't give a damn about that. Addison had never looked more beautiful. She was wearing a simple white shirt and a pair of jeans, not at all dressy, the sort of thing you would expect from someone who had been moving house all day, but its casualness, the fact that it was such a new and different side to her, took his breath away. Her hair was loose, a little mussed around her shoulders and all he could think about was how it would look fanned out against the white of a pillow.

'Alex? Hello? What do you think of my new home?'

'I…' he stumbled, then he caught sight of the affronted look on her face at his blatant lack of enthusiasm. Just as on the phone, he realised he was being rude. With a monumental effort, he steered his mind away from undoing those tiny mother of pearl shirt buttons one after the other as she arched beneath him and smiled. 'It looks amazing Addison. That view,' he indicated over towards the window, 'is just incredible. Why don't you show me around?'

Placated, she started to give him the grand tour, but he wasn't really listening. He could just about see the ornate white lace of her bra through her shirt and it was pushing every other thought from his head.

When they came to the end of it, Addison turned to face him and put her hands on her hips and he could tell she wasn't happy.

'Have you listened to a word I've been saying Karev?'

'Ouch. I'm not your intern anymore Addison.'

'Well, you deserved it. I'm so excited, and you haven't even got the courtesy to _pretend _to be interested. Why did you bother coming round tonight if you were going to be like this?' she snapped, getting angrier as she spoke.

'I'm sorry.' She glared at him. 'I am Addison. I just… I'm embarrassed okay. I made a fool of myself on the phone earlier, thinking you were Izzie. And –' _Dude, stop talking. Just stop. Now. _'In all honesty, I can't tell you what I think of the apartment, because I haven't been able to take my eyes off you all evening.'

'Oh.'

_Well, at least that shut her up._

Addison was determined not to let the evening be ruined for the sake of awkwardness. By now, they should be far enough down the line not to be awkward, if nothing else. Her eyes alighted on the bottle of wine he'd placed on the counter and relaxed her confrontational stance.

'Do you want a glass of wine?'

He was a little wrong footed by her sudden change but she loved having the upper hand over him.

'Uh, sure.'

She rummaged in a drawer for a corkscrew, then reached for the bottle. As she did so, she saw the label. 'It's Californian,' she said.

'Yeah,' he shrugged. 'You talk about it as if you were happy there, so I thought this might be a nice reminder.'

'Thank you. It is.' She handed him a glass. 'For the record you know, California wasn't all it cracked up to be. It helped me a lot, but it didn't solve everything.'

'What didn't it solve?'

'I was still an adulterous whore who slept with her husband's best friend. You can't erase your past. Even though others didn't know, I still had to live with the knowledge myself, and I didn't like it. And I was still a magnet for emotionally unavailable men. And I was still lonely.'

She walked over, and sat on the new suede couch that she'd been so concerned about in the presence of red wine, tucking her feet beneath her and sinking into the far corner. Alex took that as a limited invitation only, and followed her to the seating area by the vast window but took a seat in an armchair rather than on the sofa itself.

Gently, she trailed a finger around the rim of the glass and looked at it contemplatively. 'You weren't lonely though, were you?'

'What do you mean?'

'Isobel Stevens.'

'We're friends Addison. We were together, and there were times when I thought maybe I would marry her, but it wasn't going to be. I was always second place behind Denny for her, and she knew how I felt about you, even though we never talked about it.'

'You talk about it now though.'

'Izzie talks. I… fend her off.'

Addison couldn't help but break into a smile at his turn of phrase. She wanted, irrationally, to be annoyed at him for his relationship with Izzie but she knew it was unfair of her. And if now all they talked about was her; well, that had to be good, right? To stop herself from saying something she might regret, she looked out over London.

'I love this view, I could look at it all day you know. So many times this afternoon I was meant to be unpacking boxes and moving around furniture –' She was interrupted by his laugh.

'What?' she asked, indignant.

'Well, you, moving furniture.'

She gave him a sideways, haughty look and carried on as if she'd never heard his teasing insult. 'As I was saying, I was up here this afternoon, and the whole time when I was meant to be doing things, I just had to keep stopping and looking at it. It's beautiful.'

She was gazing out over the city as she spoke and her eyes were alight with enthusiasm; she looked enthralled by what she was seeing.

'You're beautiful,' he blurted out.

She snapped her head around to stare at him. 'What did you say?'

Carefully, Alex put his glass on wine down on the floor and moved over to the sofa. He took her glass out of her hand and set it down well out of the way. 'I said,' he repeated slowly, eyes dark with desire, 'you're beautiful.'

He realised for the first time that there were little golden fairy lights wrapped around the beam above their heads, and candles flickering on the low coffee table in front of the window. The lights were dancing in her eyes and shimmering in her hair, and he knew he was lost.

Then, somehow, they were kissing. He knew there must have been a deep look, a closing of the space between them, but he couldn't remember them. All he knew, all her felt like he'd ever known, was that this was _so _worth the wait. All his countless reasons why this shouldn't be happening that he had been repeating to himself like mantra these last few weeks had melted away.

He felt the need in the way she kissed him, with tongue and teeth already biting his lower lip teasingly. She was snaking her arms around his body, running her hands up his back, pulling his body down to her as she sank backwards into the cushions and he was happy to follow. He could feel her nails scraping his skin through his shirt.

Addison moaned softly; she couldn't help herself, then found herself moaning again as he swallowed the sound she made. Already she was breathing heavily, her body wracked with need for him. She plucked at his shirt, removing it from the waistband of his trousers, and managed to get her hands onto bare skin. It was so satisfying.

His lips were trailing along her jawline to her neck now, and she gasped as she felt his fingers undo the first couple of buttons of her shirt and slip inside. His hand was rough from years upon years of constant scrubbing (nothing less than gallons of expensive hand cream prevented hers from going the same way) and it felt like heaven against her skin. She tipped her head back to expose more of her neck to his kisses and arched her body into him, desperate for more contact.

Alex felt his self control slipping away. It had been such a long time since he'd been with a woman, and even longer since Addison, and every fibre in his body was burning for her. He'd been living, breathing, dreaming, this fantasy for so many years.

'Addison,' he said huskily, trying to convey something of what he was feeling.

'Alex, oh God, Alex…' Both their shirts were hanging open now, and for the first time there was a real contact of flesh. It drove them both crazy. One of her legs came up to hook around his waist and he found himself pressing against her desperately.

Then he broke away for a moment, just to get a little more oxygen into his lungs, and suddenly he froze. What was he doing? What were they doing? They couldn't just have a glass of wine and sex on a sofa and wipe out all those years of pain and loneliness. It didn't get to be this easy.

And even if this was their wave-a-magic-wand romantic moment that he didn't believe in anyway, it would never work. It couldn't. He would screw it up again, like he did the last time, like he did every time, all the time, always. Why should it be different now? Addison deserved so much more.

She looked up at him quizzically. 'What's the matter Alex?'

He levered himself off her and sat up, his head deep in his hands. 'I'm sorry,' he mumbled to the floor.

She sat up too, looking utterly stricken. Her wide eyes looked exactly the same as the night he'd told her she wasn't his girlfriend. Like she'd been slapped, and as if she couldn't believe he was the one to have done it. She pulled the edges of her shirt together, covering her chest, and began to button them with fumbling fingers.

'What's wrong?' she asked, but this time there was hurt rather than confusion in her voice. He chanced a look at her out of the corner of his eye and he could see a tear glistening on her cheek.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated, still out of breath from their passion. 'I… I can't do this.'

And then he fled.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's Note: Well, first things first, I have to apologise for how long I've left you hanging since the last chapter. I've had a friend staying, then been on holiday, been ill, plenty of things to prevent churning out the next instalment. Aside from that, thank you for all the reviews – so excited to have passed the hundred mark. Anyway, here's chapter sixteen for you. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: As before

Addison sat on her precious suede sofa, stunned, for a very long time after Alex left. That familiar sense of humiliation was radiating out from the pit of her stomach where earlier there had been a flood of desire, and she stared blankly out over the London skyline. Far below her, headlights of cars wound their way along the road, and streetlamps set an eerie orange glow across the city. In a couple of places, there was the blue flash of an ambulance or a police car but here, in her rooftop paradise, she was too far removed to be able to hear the sound of the sirens.

After a little while, she looked down to see goosebumps risen on her arms and realised she was shivering with the cold, especially in the places where, before, her skin had been covered by his. The cold felt like it had permeated right into her bones, and she sat there, frozen. It wasn't until, much later, when the flame of one of the candles sputtered and died, having burnt all the way down, that she was able to move.

Pulled out of her reverie by the subtle change in light, Addison got up and blew the rest of the candles out, turning the main lights on again to banish the last vestiges of the romantic atmosphere. _How quickly things can change. _Looking down, she realised that in her hurry to cover herself she had buttoned her shirt up all wrong, and she sighed heavily. She didn't even have the energy to rebutton it; he'd sapped every last drop of it out of her.

Going to the kitchen, she took a tumbler from one of the cupboards and poured herself a large glass of vodka, neat, wishing fervently that her freezer had been up and running long enough to have some ice in it. It wasn't the same without it. Nevertheless, she drank it in two gulps, wincing and shuddering as it burnt its way down her throat. At least it warmed her up a little.

How was she back here, _again_? Did she honestly never learn? It had been exactly the same as before, she had let him in, let him get close – he'd wanted to get close – but as soon as the point arrived where some deeper commitment might be required, you couldn't see him for dust. _At least he'd had the courtesy not to screw me this time_, she thought bitterly.

But then, she reasoned, he had warned her. He'd told her that he wasn't a relationship person, that he shut people out and pushed them away. Why should she expect anything different? That was what he did last time. There was no reason why things should suddenly change. Well, not so suddenly, but still.

His actions didn't ring true though… You couldn't be as passionate, sensitive, _intense_ if you didn't feel _something._ You couldn't look at someone the way he did, as if she was the only person in the world sometimes, and not have any emotion behind your eyes. You couldn't be that caring, and _not _care, it wasn't possible. They'd shared so many little moments; the almost kiss by the fountain in Trafalgar Square, the way he'd been tonight, when he said "you're beautiful". And before, the first time around. A thousand looks and touches, a constant stream of electricity. Not all of it could be meaningless. It just couldn't be.

So okay, he was trying to protect her. He felt something for her, just as before, and was pushing her away, just as before. Well, this time, she wasn't going to let him.

She poured herself another drink but now downed it with a new confidence. He wasn't going to get away with this whole noble, cowardly charade again, simple as that. Tomorrow, she was going to confront him.

When Alex fled, he made his way as fast as he could to the nearest tube station and jumped on the first train that he came across. It was far more by luck than judgement that it was the one he needed to take him back to the hotel. As he sat there – late enough to get a seat but not so late it was crowded with drunken revellers – he looked determinedly at his feet and paid attention to no-one. He could see in the corner of his vision that there was a woman a few seats away that was trying to catch his eye but he wasn't interested.

Christ, what was he doing? Of all the mature, adult, sensible ways they could have talked this through… He ran. He fucking ran. _Idiot. _

Seven long years since he'd last been that close to her, seven years in which he hadn't been entirely alone, but he had been lonely. He'd missed her. Izzie was his best friend, and Meredith _understood _in a way that no-one else did, but Addison was…

Everything.

And he couldn't believe he'd thrown all that away, again. What had he been playing at? Did he honestly want another seven years of being dead inside? In fact, he'd been dead inside for as long as he could remember, except when he was with her. It hit him that he didn't know how to be any different. That perhaps he was scared to be any different. And that scared him.

As soon as he was back at the hotel, he went straight to the bar. Steve took one look at his face and put a whiskey in front of him.

'What've you gone and done now?'

Alex ignored him, and knocked back the drink.

'Well, you must have done something.'

'How do you even know where I've been?' Alex asked, shaking his head in wonderment. 'How can you _possibly _know where I've been?'

Steve refilled the glass without needing to be asked, and pushed it back across the bar with a grin. 'Well,' he said slowly and with a thoughtful expression, 'partly because you're late, even later than you normally are with work. Partly the look on your face.'

'Fair enough,' Alex nodded.

'But mainly because you've got lipstick on your collar.'

Immediately, Alex's hand flew to his shirt and rubbed at it. He looked down and his fingers and smiled ruefully at the light red colour that had come off on them. 'Oh. I guess that might have been a bit of a giveaway huh?'

'Just a bit.'

Finally Alex felt a little of the tension that was stretched across his brow, his shoulders, ease and he sighed. 'Seriously mate, I don't know how I do it. She was right there on the sofa, _beautiful, _and I ran.' He groaned, and shook his head in disbelief at his actions. Did he really _run?_ 'Fill her up again Steve.'

'Nope, I'm not going to let you drown your sorrows.'

'Dude, I'm the paying customer here.'

'And I'm the responsible bartender.' He pointed towards a sign above the bar. 'Refusal of service is at my discretion.'

'Don't be an ass.'

'All right, all right, one more. But when she comes marching up to you tomorrow demanding an explanation, you're not going to stand a chance if you're bleary eyed and hungover and stumbling over your words, pathetically inadequate though they will undoubtedly be. She's going to have worked through the hurt, humiliated stage; it's going to be nothing but white hot anger by the morning. You need to be…'

'I need to be anaesthetised against the disaster that was this evening. And I've blown it, she won't want to even see me tomorrow, let alone demand an explanation.'

'Not that I can say I know Addison, because I'm _still_ waiting for an introduction,' Steve said, hinting heavily, 'but something tells me this isn't over. I'd have my apology speech pretty well rehearsed if I were you.'

At the word "apology", Alex groaned again, and hit his forehead on the bar.


	17. Chapter 17

Author's Note: Well, here's your next episode of Grey's

Author's Note: Well, here's your next episode of Grey's! Several of you have been kind enough to say that you think of the new chapters as episodes so here is the next one for you. Sorry you've had to wait a little while for it – life, you know. Thank you for all the reviews, I love hearing from you all, particularly as you say such lovely things.

Disclaimer: As before

As she walked into the hospital's main reception, Addison went through her daily ritual of slipping off the sensible, dull flats she secretly wore to do battle with the Underground every morning, and slid her feet into her signature heels with a satisfied sigh. God, did she need them today.

They were her favourite pair. She felt like she could conquer the world in these shoes. Prada, and pure class; black, classic court style and made out of the softest Italian leather, with high narrow heels and a pointed toe. She drew every ounce of courage that they gave her all the way up through her body, using it to straighten her spine and hold her head up.

She remembered when she'd first come to Seattle, and she'd needed so much courage – nothing less than three inch heels – to face Derek every day. Her shoe collection had doubled in those months. To remain dignified in the face of his snarling, biting, _hurt _sarcasm had given her strength that she'd never had in New York. And when he was cold towards her, or worse, when he'd supposedly forgiven her but she caught him looking sideways at Meredith at every opportunity. It had been the hardest lesson she'd ever learnt, but she was going to put it to good use today.

If she let it, the humiliation of last night could overwhelm her, as it had done in the past – echoes of _you're not my girlfriend _rolled around in her head– but not today. She was older, if not wiser, and it was going to be different this time. She was going to make Alex talk about this if it was the last thing she did.

By lunchtime though, she was beginning to wonder if all her good intentions were going to waste. She hadn't seen Alex at all. Well, that wasn't _entirely _true; twice she had seen the briefest glimpse of him disappearing around a corner as she approached and she was reminded of when they had kissed in Joe's bar and she had spent the day avoiding him. No wonder he'd been annoyed with her then; she was finding now it was damn frustrating.

Alex spent his journey into work on the tube trying to compose some sort of apology speech, but even he was appalled by the words he came up with. Everything was, as Steve had predicted, pathetically inadequate. It was based around a sorry, I'm an ass sort of premise, but every time he came up with something, the image of Addison, hurt and shocked on the sofa, with her cheeks still flushed pink from their passion, popped into his head and ridiculed him. Inadequate didn't even come close.

Nevertheless, he knew he had to talk to her; she deserved that much from him. His resolve held right up until the moment he walked through the main doors of the hospital and saw her. He tried to walk over to her, but somehow his legs seemed to have turned to stone and he was frozen to the spot. Instead, he just took a moment to watch her.

She was rummaging in an oversized handbag and he grinned to himself as he saw her pull out a pair of shoes and slip them on her feet. Sometimes, because he spent so much time with her these days, he forgot how stunning she was, and it was moments like this that reminded him. He got the feeling he was witnessing a private little ritual, and felt a weird sense of privilege.

She was standing up straight again and smoothing down the crisp black suit she was wearing. He thought she looked as if she was trying to summon up the courage to face the day, and that made him feel terrible. One of the things he'd always hated about the way Derek had treated her was that sometimes it seemed like every last ounce of energy and fight had been knocked out of her, and he knew that he was one of the few people she'd ever allowed to see it. Now here he was, doing the same thing. God, he was stupid.

He got decidedly more stupid as the day went on though. Every time he saw the flash of her red hair coming towards him, he ducked into the nearest doorway, behind a supply trolley, anything to hide from her. Each time he did it, he berated himself, but like a child knowing he was doing wrong, he did it anyway.

Once, Michael happened to be walking past at the most inconvenient of moments and caught him cowering behind a particularly large hospital porter. Typically, he called out to him deliberately loudly. 'Alex, good morning.'

He shot his boss a dark look, waiting until he was sure Addison had departed around the corner before he re-emerged. 'Would you like me to explain how may ways that wasn't funny, or do you think you can work it out for yourself?'

'Sometimes you just make it too easy; I can't resist. Should I invite you to my office to bait you further or might you hit me?'

'I might hit you,' Alex replied grimly.

'Fair enough.' Out of the very corner of his eye, Michael could see Addison lurking and he thought he had better not torture the younger consultant any sooner. He had noticed Alex's deliberate acts of avoidance and Addison had a militant look on her face. Whatever Alex had done, doubtless he was going to have to pay for it.

'I think I'll leave you to your game of hide and seek now,' he grinned. 'Good luck.'

Addison had been getting steadily more frustrated with Alex as the morning went on, but was conscious that after the first time she'd kissed him, that night in Joe's a million years ago, she'd avoided him, refused to talk about it, for the better part of a week, so in a way she was in no position to complain. That time, he'd eventually ambushed her, and she didn't think that sounded like too bad a plan right now. She saw Michael talking to him, and lurked just out of sight, ready to pounce.

'Karev,' she said imperiously, and was rewarded with the sight of Alex starting in surprised.

Immediately, he looked flustered, and she saw him glance from side to side, as if looking for an escape route.

'About last night…'

'Uh… now isn't a good time Addison. I'm really busy. I… umm…' he grabbed a chart out of the hands of a passing nurse. 'I have to go check on –' he paused to consult it – 'on Baby Donnelly.'

'Alex, don't walk away from me, we need to discuss this.'

He averted his eyes from her cool blue gaze and began to back away down the corridor. She was standing there, as tall as he was in her heels, hands on hips and looking truly terrifying if he didn't know her well enough to know what there was underneath the surface. And then, a fraction of a second before she opened her mouth to speak, he knew what she was going to say, and cussed his stupid, annoying self of seven years ago. Payback's a bitch.

'Well, when you have a minute, _I'd like to talk about all the kissing_,' she called out, her voice ringing off the walls.

He stopped walking, and groaned as everyone within a twenty foot radius stopped what they were doing and turned to stare. He was in half a mind to stalk off, but the corners of her mouth were turning upwards in a smirk and he found himself chuckling softly. 'I kinda deserved that, didn't I?'

'Payback's a bitch,' she repeated his own thoughts to him.

'Too damn true.'

'So I take it _I_ don't have to drag _you_ into a supply cupboard then?'

He sighed, and smiled at her. 'I, uh,' he looked down at the chart to give himself a moment to summon the courage to meet her gaze. When he looked up again, her eyes were glowing and he felt himself falling into their depths.

'I have no idea who Baby Donnelly is,' he admitted. 'Do you want to go grab a coffee? I know where Michael keeps the good stuff.'

'That sounds like a plan.'


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: Once again, as always, thank you for the reviews on the last chapter/episode

Author's Note: Once again, as always, thank you for the reviews on the last chapter/episode. I am running out of things to say in these little notes – there are only so many ways to word "thank you for being kind and lovely about my story" and I feel I'm running out of ways to put it. But I will say it makes writing _so _worthwhile to know there are people out there enjoying it. I'm not sure what I think of this chapter to be honest, it's the first one that hasn't flowed out of my head onto the page nice and smoothly and written itself, so I would be especially interested to hear your thoughts on this one.

Disclaimer: As before

Addison waited in the corridor while Alex snuck past Michael's secretary and into his office. While he was gone, she tried to calm herself. This could be it. This afternoon could be the moment where she finally broke down all the barriers and saw the real Alex Karev. And who knew what might come out of it? On the other hand, she reminded herself before she got carried away, she shouldn't get her hopes up. This was Alex after all, whose personal barriers made the Berlin Wall look like a flimsy garden fence.

After a couple of minutes, he emerged with an expression on his face like a triumphant schoolboy, and clutching a tin in his hand. 'How does a cup of Kenyan Roast sound?'

'You really did just steal Michael's coffee, didn't you?' she laughed.

'Well, he's quite right, that crap they serve in the cafeteria just isn't coffee. Besides, he won't mind.'

On impulse (almost on impulse, he checked to see if the corridor was empty first) he reached out and grabbed her hand, and after a fraction of a second, felt her fingers curl around his own. He glanced sideways at her briefly but she didn't meet his gaze; he was pretty sure the corners of her lips were turning upwards in a smile though.

They hurried down the long, sterile corridor to the lift – their office was three floors above Michael's – and jumped in. The second the doors pinged shut Addison could feel Alex's eyes on her. The heat in them was extraordinary, and suddenly she thought the proximity of a lift might be too much temptation.

Alex was trying to maintain a little distance; the passion that had flared between them last night was recent enough to still feel the ghost of her hands on his body and he knew that, this time, she deserved a conversation at least before he jumped her. And the way she was looking today, her white coat over a smart pinstripe tailored dress and those sexy shoes that made her legs go on forever, he was almost certainly going to have to jump her.

He edged towards her in spite of himself, those eyes were drawing him in again. She was leaning back against the wall and very, very slowly, he moved forward until their bodies were so close he could feel her warmth.

'Addison,' he said huskily. Still clutching the tin of coffee and careful not to actually touch her, Alex began to lean in.

For a moment, Addison couldn't help but respond and found herself coming to meet him, but she stopped a fraction of a second before their lips met. 'No. Not again. This isn't Seattle Grace, it's not _compulsory _to get it on in a lift.'

'It is when you look like that,' he replied seductively.

This time she was more decisive in her rejection and gave him a little push, retreating to the far corner of the lift. She realised she was out of breath, just from being close to him. '_No Alex. _I mean it. We need to talk, not… Well. I'm not going to let this be some undefined…' She stumbled over her words, flustered. She knew she _thought _she wanted to put a stop to things, but actually having the willpower to do it was a whole different matter. She was seriously relieved when the doors opened and they were out of the confined space.

When they were in their office, Addison sat down in the leather armchair that was in the corner while Alex saw to the coffee. When it was made, he poured her a cup and held it out to her.

'Thanks.'

'No problem.' There was only the one armchair so he took a seat on the chair behind his desk, and decided that for the moment, having the barrier of the desk between them wasn't a bad idea.

'So…' he began, knowing that Addison would have plenty to say and he'd rather she started. He didn't really know what to say himself.

'What is this Alex? What is this thing?' She waved her hand around a bit which he presumed meant to indicate some form of relationship between them. 'I can't handle this running away and pulling back the whole time. I know you said that you don't do relationships but you're giving me so many mixed signals. Last night you were all over me, then you were gone.'

'I…' He didn't know precisely how to respond to that. His actions of the night before were undeniably indefensible.

'I don't understand. Just please, explain it to me.'

'Addison, believe me, I would if I could. I don't understand it myself, not really. I know that I am not good at relationships, I cheat and I lie. I know you deserve better. I know I'm not good for you. But…' He sighed. 'When I'm with you I don't care about any of that. It's selfish of me, but… I'm in love with you. I want to be with you. And then I remember what I'm like and…' He shook his head.

Addison sipped her coffee to give her time to think. It was good – definitely a hell of a lot better than the cafeteria fare – but it would have been twice as good if it was a glass of vodka. She felt like she needed one.

His explanation today seemed more open than when they had dinner together. More… honest almost. He was admitting that he knew he was going to make a mess of things between them, but that he wanted her anyway. That he liked her too much to care about what might go wrong. It gave her a lot more to work with than he'd offered her before.

_And he said he was in love with her. _

'Alex. I… You're not going to make this easy for us, are you?'

'_Should _it be easy?'

'Well, I don't know about you, but I think I've suffered enough. I think I've paid for what I did in my marriage and it's about time I had a bit of happiness again. I can't speak for you, because you've never told me, but for what it's worth, _I _think you deserve to be happy.'

Alex looked over at her. She was so beautiful; she didn't seem to have aged a day from the first time he saw her and he really, really wanted to believe her that this could work. Perhaps it could.

He sighed heavily.

'What sort of an answer is that?' she asked.

'Don't push me,' he said, a little more testily than he had intended for the words to come out.

'Don't get mad at me,' she snapped back, hurt that this all seemed to be going wrong. Five minutes ago they were running hand in hand down a corridor with a stolen tin of coffee like schoolkids, now they were practically at each other's throats.

A silence fell between them, awkward and brittle, softened only by the rich aroma of Kenyan Roast that hung in the air. Internally, Alex was kicking himself. She was right, he wasn't making this easy. That self destruct button was just too bright and shiny and tempting. Every time he gave her a glimmer of hope, he couldn't help but dash it again. He was adept at ruining his own happiness, but it seemed to be the height of cruelty to keep doing it to her as well. And he was becoming an expert.

'I'm sorry,' he said, breaking the silence. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and blue. 'I'm sorry for being an ass,' he clarified.

He was about to apologise further when a thought suddenly occurred to him. She hadn't told him that she loved him, and he was struck with an overwhelming need to hear her say it. For a second, he imagined the words coming from her lips and his heart soared. That told him all he needed to know. It was time to bury his demons, or at least try to.

'Hang on a minute. I've told you twice now how I feel about you. What about you?'

'What about me?' she asked, momentarily confused.

'How do you feel about me?' He stood up and came towards her from his solitary position behind the desk. He had that old, charming smirk on his face and Addison could sense the change in his mood.

'I would have thought that was obvious.'

Just as he had with the wine glass last night, he took her coffee cup out of her hand and knelt down in front of her. In its place, he wound his fingers and held her hands tightly.

He was leaning into her, and she knew that this time, neither of them would be pulling away.

'Tell me,' he almost whispered.

'I love you.'

The kiss was deeper, more delicious, than the ones of the previous evening, and Addison felt her entire world spin. Their lips slid against each other, hot and wet and just a tiny bit too urgent to be graceful. It seemed to last at least as long as the last seven years had, and when they finally broke apart, they were gasping for breath.

Anything they might have said though, was stolen by the simultaneous beeping of their pagers.

'Damn, hold that thought,' Alex muttered, and slowly stood up, offering a hand to Addison.

She laughed, and climbed to her feet. 'Well, this is a variation on the not making things easy I guess,' she offered.

'Serves me right for taking so long to get my act together.'

'Yep, it does.' She smiled at him as he held the door open for her. 'Look, do you want to come over to my place this evening? If you promise not to run out on me again.'

'No.'

'No?' she cut across him, before he had a chance to finish.

'No. Come with me to the hotel, there's someone I want you to meet.'


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for how long it's been since I last updated this story, particularly as I left it at rather a crucial point. I had a seriously awful week (nothing terrible, but an extraordinary run of bad luck that went from mildly amusing to downright funny to completely beyond a joke) then I paid a little long overdue attention to one of my ER stories and have spent the weekend having my flat invaded by my sister, hence no time to write. There, that was my catalogue of excuses, now I'll carry on with the story.

Disclaimer: As before. The Thames House Hotel is completely fictitious by the way, if such an establishment does in fact exist, it is a coincidence, nothing more.

For once, they both made the effort to be ready to leave the hospital something like on time but it was never quite as simple as that. There was always one more case, one more consult. He'd been intending to take her somewhere nice for dinner before going back to the hotel for drinks with Steve, but by the time they could just about see the light at the end of the tunnel, it was too late for that. An urgent rethink was called for.

Alex made sure he was ready first and while Addison debriefed the registrar who was heading up the night shift on a couple of the more complicated cases, he retreated to their office and called ahead to the hotel. The bar had a direct line number which was really only for hotel employees but Steve had given it to him. The hotel was neither large nor expensive enough to have twenty four hour room service and sometimes when he was held up at work he called Steve to ask him to organise the chef to plate him up some dinner before the kitchen closed.

'Thames House Hotel.'

'Steve, it's Alex.'

'Mate, just in time. Chef's mother isn't very well, he was going to close early tonight. I'll get him to sort something out for you before he goes.'

Alex felt a flicker of hesitation catch in the back of his throat as he tried to speak again. He was about to acknowledge, out loud, for the first time that he and Addison… might not be quite as in the past as he had previously maintained, and it seemed like a big moment. He also hoped fervently that Izzie never, ever found out he'd told someone other than her first.

'Could you ask him to sort out dinner for two?' In the background, Alex could hear the hum of voices and the old blues music that Steve was adored and always played in the bar when the hotel manager wasn't there to tell him to put on something more mainstream.

'For two?' Steve asked, momentarily confused.

'Addison and I may have done some talking today.'

'_Finally_,' Steve replied with feeling.

'Yes, well. I got a little ambushed actually; she always was able to outsmart me. Anyway, you're getting your wish tonight, it's too late for dinner somewhere else so I'm bringing her back to the hotel to eat, so you're going to get to meet her. We're almost done here at the hospital, we'll probably be back in about half an hour. Can I leave it all to you?'

Steve exhaled in a theatrically exaggerated sigh, but Alex knew he didn't mind in the slightest. He'd been harping on about meeting Addison pretty much from the first moment he learned of her presence in London, and the air of excitement on the other end of the telephone line was almost palpable. 'What do you want?'

Alex considered for a moment what level of romance would be suitable. Even the word _romance _made him break out in a cold sweat, but for Addison... 'Champagne, candles,' he decided. 'No roses or violins. Or garlic,' he added as an afterthought.

'Dude, you owe me the _biggest _favour.'

'Quiet. You love it.'

'You're right, I do. Wait 'til I tell Tina, she was beginning to think you'd never get your act together.' Tina was Steve's wife, she came to pick him up after work occasionally, and Alex had liked her instantly. She was warm, vivacious, and he completely understood why Steve had sailed across the Atlantic Ocean after her. He knew Steve kept her fully informed of the status of his and Addison's saga as she never failed to greet him with an enquiry as to how things were going and a disapproving tut when he rolled his eyes and refused to answer.

'So was I,' Alex answered dryly. 'Tell Tina that if I make it through these next couple of weeks without screwing things up we'll all go out for dinner. On me, as a thank you.'

'You don't have to do that.'

'Don't get excited. Let's get through tonight first.'

'_Get through_? Christ, you're such a romantic.'

Alex heard the click of Addison's heels coming down the corridor towards their office. 'I've got to go. See you later.'

The door creaked open and a red head of hair appeared around it. She smiled widely at him. 'All sorted. I've briefed Hamilton and Johnson on every possible eventuality with every single patient. Hopefully,' she paused, and held up firmly crossed fingers, 'there'll be no need to page us for anything. Now, tell me, who is this mystery person you're so keen on me meeting.'

He came out from behind his desk, and grabbed his coat off the peg. 'Ah, if I told you, that would ruin the surprise now, wouldn't it?'

Once they were out of the office, he offered her his arm, and she linked hers through his, falling into step beside him. The corridor was empty, but Addison was fairly sure she would have done it anyway. So people might gossip, but at the end of the day, who was there to get hurt by it here? There was no Derek to berate her, Mark to hassle her. No ghosts.

'I'm not a fan of surprises.' A quick frown of anxiety passed across her face. 'It's not anyone I know, is it?'

He decided to come clean. 'No, nothing like that. It's a guy I've become friends with at the hotel, he's a bartender –'

'You're friends with the bartender?' she cut across him with a laugh. 'It comforts me to know that _some _things don't change.'

He shot her a sideways, petulant look before continuing. '_Anyway_, Steve's a good guy, he's wanted to meet you for a while. I was going to book us a table somewhere but it's a bit late now so I thought you might like to have dinner with me at the hotel, then a few drinks in the bar or whatever.'

'That sounds nice,' she said, then thought for a moment. 'Hang on, how does Steve know who I am?' Alex stayed silent. 'Ah, so you do talk about me to someone then?'

'Never tell Izzie,' he replied quickly, and Addison was pretty sure he wasn't joking.

She chuckled. 'I won't.'

She wanted to ask him about what happened with Seattle. Did they tell people? If so, when? In a way, she wanted them all to know that she had pulled her life together, she was happy, she loved and was loved. But on the other hand, things with Alex were so new, fragile and Seattle Grace had a habit of destroying personal relationships, and she didn't doubt for a minute its influence would be weakened by time or distance. And did they really want everything analysed, picked over by other people, even if they were far enough away not to hear it? Not really.

There was a pang of guilt there though. Callie and Miranda were her friends, even if she didn't call them as often as she should, and Derek and Mark would always be her family no matter how much they all pretended otherwise. And Alex had Izzie, Meredith, friends who deserved to know as well. It wasn't easy, but then as Alex had said, it probably shouldn't be.

Alex glanced at Addison. She had gone rather quiet, and he wondered if it was because he mentioned Izzie. He'd given her a very, very brief summary of his relationship with Izzie but knew she deserved more than that. Not that he felt he needed to explain himself – he was sure she hadn't been celibate herself these last years – but he wanted her to understand that Izzie was his best friend, had been there through some dark times after the Ava/Rebecca debacle, and would always have a place in his life.

But just tonight, he wasn't going to ruin the moment by talking about the past. Tonight was about fun, a first proper date.


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Just to let you all know, I have been trying to think of another story to replace this one when it's over and done with, and yesterday, an excellent (well, I rather like it, but whether or not it is "excellent" will be up to you) idea struck me. However, I'm going to keep it as a surprise – much more fun that way! I may be persuaded to leak small, tantalising details in return for much begging and many compliments – only joking. Although I may feed you spoilers from time to time just to tease you! By the way, an oyster card is a travel card for public transport in London – you can put credit on it, and swipe it when you use the tube, bus etc.

Disclaimer: As before

Just as they emerged from the underground, Alex received a text from Steve which he read surreptitiously while Addison rummaged around in her bag for her oyster card.

_Take her straight through to the dining room. And don't worry, I accept all major credit cards._

Seeing the words, he felt a definite sense of trepidation that was not entirely down to first date nerves.

They walked from the station to the hotel – it was only a few minutes and after a day spent in the overly sterile corridors of the hospital it was refreshing to get some actual fresh air into their lungs. They held hands but a comfortable silence had fallen between them, and it made Alex think; they had never needed words. An almost kiss over an incubator, an actual, _beautiful _kiss at Joe's; they'd said it all. In fact, words had always been what screwed them up; his admittedly, but still. This – when they simply let themselves _be _– was perfect.

She sounded mildly impressed when he pointed out the hotel to her, but he knew she was used to much more palatial surroundings.

'Well, it's all right,' he said. 'Nothing grand, but it's friendly, I like it. I know I should get a place of my own, but what's not to love about living in a hotel? Invisible people make my bed and cook my dinner and wash my towels. It's actually kind of perfect.'

Addison laughed lightly. 'Oh, you're preaching to the converted, believe me. I spent months living in a hotel in Seattle, I definitely wouldn't knock it.'

He squeezed her hand, knowing that she was speaking flippantly. Those last months, in fact, all those months, in Seattle, had been little better than a living Hell for her. 'Long time ago,' he said simply.

She looked at him gratefully. Although he had been pretty adept in the past at using words to wound her, he also had the most incredible ability at he same time to come out with just the right thing when she really needed to hear it. Seattle _was _a long time ago, and although it had given them their history, in just three words he'd managed to draw them back into the present, remind her that tonight was about starting over.

They walked up the steps to the hotel entrance and Alex held the door open for her with a charming smile. 'Welcome to my humble abode.'

She smiled back at him. 'Thank you.'

'My pleasure.' He guided her through the door with a hand resting firmly in the small of her back, and revelled in the feeling of being _allowed _to put it there. He continued to steer her through the reception (he could see Steve, dressed suspiciously smart, lurking behind a small potted tree of some kind and giving him a thumbs up signal) to the dining room.

When he saw what Steve had done though, he stopped dead in his tracks, all irritation gone. It wasn't even ten o'clock, but all the other diners had been cleared out and a single table for two had been laid right by the patio doors out to the terrace. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket on a stand by the table, and there were candles everywhere, on every table in the room, along the windowsills, every available surface. It was stunning.

But Steve had followed his instructions to the letter – no roses (a single gerbera daisy somehow, miraculously, the exact shade of Addison's hair – surely a coincidence? – but no roses) and no violins.

Before he could fully take in the scene, he heard Addison exclaim beside him, 'Alex, oh Alex, this is _beautiful. _How on earth did you manage to organise all this?'

'I…' he stumbled.

He was saved from having to decide whether or not to own up that it might not have been _entirely _his handiwork by a voice behind them. 'Good evening Sir, Madam, and welcome to the Thames House Hotel. My name is Steve, and I'll be your waiter for this evening.' He deftly removed Addison's coat from her shoulders and hung it on the peg by the door.

Alex gave him a warning look and he dropped the persona. 'It's okay, don't worry dude, I'm going to make myself scarce. I'm just going to bring your meal out then see you in the bar later.'

Steve extended his hand to Addison, smiling warmly. 'Steve Bennett, very pleased to meet you at last. '

'Addison Montgomery. Likewise,' she replied.

'Now if you two would like to sit down and open the champagne, I'll be back in a minute. Dinner's nothing special I'm afraid, but,' he grinned at them, 'I daresay you won't really notice what you're eating anyway.'

When Steve disappeared into the kitchen, they sat down and Alex started to peel the foil off the top of the champagne bottle, carefully easing out the cork.

'Well, I think I know how you managed to lay on a romantic dinner for two having been at work at day,' Addison said.

He looked repentant. 'Sorry if it makes it less personal. I wanted to take you to some fancy restaurant, but it was too late, and Steve –'

Addison reached across the table and caressed his cheek, rough with a day's worth of stubble. 'I love it. I love _this. _It couldn't be better if you'd taken me to the poshest, fanciest, most upmarket, expensive restaurant in London. This is _perfect. _Thank you.'

'Believe me, it's my pleasure.'

They didn't say anything else until after Steve had set two plates of delicate, feather light grilled lemon sole fillets and a dish of steamed spring vegetables, completely belying his statement that the food wasn't going to be anything special. He quickly made a tactful retreat, promising to see them in the bar later.

For the first time, the silence between them had become a little awkward. Alex could think of a thousand things he wanted to say, but he wanted to keep this evening light, fun. Hopefully they would have weeks and months and even years to talk about all the serious things, he didn't want to weigh them down with it all now. But on the other hand, until they were said, he didn't really know how to begin.

'This fish is good,' he said awkwardly.

'It's lovely.' He could see the corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a smirk and he realised what a pathetic effort his words had been. Surely he could come up with something better than that?

'So, umm…'

Addison decided to make things a little easier. She felt the tickling of butterflies in the pit of her stomach, and she had a feeling Alex wasn't much better off. He looked as if the fish, excellent though it was, was getting stuck in his throat.

'This is a date Alex, we're meant to be having fun, not staring at each other across a table.'

His face was absolutely deadpan, but his dark eyes were glinting in the candlelight. 'Addison, staring across a table at you _is _fun.'

She smiled like a girl. 'Well, when you put it like that…'

He laughed, the tension broken. 'Sorry if I'm a bit… nervous or whatever,' he said, slightly embarrassed. 'I'm trying not to be, but I can't really believe we're finally doing this. Seven years,' he added with a tone of wonderment.

Addison tilted her head a little to the side, looking at Alex pensively. She looked as if she was weighing something up. 'Not that I want to ruin the moment or anything,' she began, 'but I can't help myself, I have to ask, what is "this"? What are we doing here?'

Part of Alex wished she hadn't brought up the realities so soon, that they could have continued in their little London bubble, but he supposed it was as well to get it out of the way. At the moment, it was circling around them, lit up by the dancing flames of the candles as clearly as if it was an actual object.

'Honestly, I'm not sure. I know I love you Addison. To say all those years without you were miserable wouldn't be quite right, but they were empty.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning,' he shrugged, not sure how to verbalise what he was trying to get across. 'Meaning, no more excuses I guess. Meaning…' He reached across the table and took her hand, playing with her fingers like he had the night by the fountain. 'I want to be with you. I want this to work. I can't promise that I won't screw up, but –' he gave her his most charming smirk – 'I can promise that every time I do, I'm going to make it up to you like you've never been made up to before.'

'How can a girl refuse an offer like that?'

'I'm being serious as well, you know.'

'So am I Alex.' He felt an intangible warmth emanate out from somewhere deep inside his chest at her words, at the _glow _of happiness in her eyes. 'I love you,' she said seriously.

Then on impulse, he stood up and leaned over the lemon sole, around the gerbera daisy and the candles and champagne flutes, and kissed her.

Startled, Addison laughed into his mouth and kissed him back, running her long fingers through his short hair, pulling him closer. God, he was good at this. His lips seemed to heal the hurt and pain, all the years of uncertainty and loneliness. She realised suddenly that the Addison Montgomery she had been searching for ever since her divorce hadn't been lost as she'd feared, but inside her all along.

She'd just needed Alex to show her.


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Thank you for your kind comments on the last chapter, you all seem quite keen for details of my next story…! The reviews have certainly helped a long, difficult, and not very nice week pass a little more pleasantly anyway, so I definitely mean it when I say thank you, you've managed to make me smile a few times for which I am very grateful. Anyway, on with the next chapter. Just because a new story is on the horizon, that doesn't mean this one is at an end, but I suppose it is working its way to its conclusion now… whatever that might be. By the way, all mentions of anything London-y from now on are officially dedicated to Absydy, who seems to enjoy them!

'An aid worker?' Addison giggled. They were in the hotel bar, after their meal, and Steve was regaling Addison with various anecdotes. He was on the first time he met Alex at the moment.

'Well, look at him,' Steve indicated with his bottle of Budweiser. It was after hours now and all three were a little drunk. 'He has that troubled, been through a lot look about him. Kind of dark and…'

'Twisty,' Alex supplied with a wry smile. He was probably the most sober of the three of them, but if under duress he might be forced to admit that his head was spinning a little, though he wasn't sure if it was the champagne or the occasion.

'Twisty? Dude, don't you mean twisted? You _are _drunk. Anyway, he came in here, looking all… hero-y and drinking scotch. Definitely an aid worker.' Steve then looked at Alex, briefly at Addison, then back to Alex again, somewhat appraisingly, although with a slightly squinty left eye.

'You know, you don't look like that anymore. You still look sort of hero-y, but not really so much of the twisty.'

'That's, uh, good to know Steve. Thanks.' He caught sight of the clock mounted on the wall behind the bar, and realised that it was nearly two in the morning. The evening had flown by, but he and Addison, or one of them at least, had to be at the hospital for rounds at seven, and neither of the other two were showing any signs of flagging.

It was time, unfortunately, to bring the evening to a close. It had been amazing, but he knew he would be questioning whether or not it was worth it in four hours and fifteen minutes when his alarm clock went off. He tapped Steve on the arm. 'Say, how're you getting home tonight?'

Steve looked non-plussed for a minute. 'Driving… I think.'

'Well, that's not happening. It's too late for the tube, do you want me to call you a cab, or Tina?'

'Oh, cab, definitely. Tina'll murder me. Her mother's flying in from New York tomorrow, I'm meant to be picking her up from the airport at noon. I don't even know what airport.'

'Cab it is.' Alex leaned over the bar and ordered a taxi using the bar phone. It only took a couple of minutes to arrive, and he poured Steve into it, chuckling at the likely reception he would get at home. He reckoned Tina could be pretty feisty.

When he came back into the bar, he saw Addison still sitting on one of the high bar stools. Her legs were crossed, and her tailored dress seemed to have slid up her thigh as she sat there, and there was a slit in the side so giving him a glimpse of the lace tops of her stockings. As if she didn't look sexy enough.

She glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway, watching her.

'Hey you.'

'Hey.'

'Did Steve get off okay?'

'Well, he got in the cab okay. His wife's gonna kill him.'

'What's she like?'

'Tina? She's really nice, you're going to like her. Witty, quite upfront. I've said we'll have dinner with them sometime.' He grinned lopsidedly. 'That's if our burgeoning relationship makes it past this evening, of course.'

'I think it'll probably manage that.'

He made his way across the bar to her and settled himself on a stool next to her, picking up his beer. Addison reached across to lay her hand on his knee and he smiled at her, closing his own hand over her much smaller one.

'Just out of interest,' he asked. 'Are we going to tell people?'

'I… I don't know really. I hadn't thought about it. What do you think?'

'Well, Steve and Tina know. Michael will want to know,' he replied.

Addison fell quiet for a moment, thinking. 'You weren't asking about telling people here in London though, were you?'

'No.'

They'd have to tell them eventually, of course. People would find out, _Izzie_ would find out; she was like a dog with a bone. She was already making noises about coming over to London to visit him. And in a way he wanted to prove to them all that he wasn't just some workaholic screw-up, that he loved and was loved, but at the moment, that was outweighed by something else.

The minute people knew, their relationship would be analysed, picked apart. Izzie would squeal and say she knew all along, Sloan would start taking bets on how long it would last, Bailey would call at least one of them and offer congratulations stilted with warnings about workplace relationships.

For now, it was a secret, special thing, and he wanted it to stay that way for a while, at least until he was certain that it was strong enough to survive the Seattle Grace onslaught.

'Do _you_ want to tell people?' she asked.

He took a sip of beer. 'I asked first.'

'Okay.' She considered the question, running her finger around the top of her champagne flute pensively. 'Yes, I think I'd quite like people there to know. In Seattle, I always felt like such a failure – not professionally obviously, but personally. I'd like the chance to prove I'm not. Now you.'

'I don't really want to tell them all, not yet. By the time I left Seattle, I was so sick of it all, the gossip, the rumours, the picking over of people's personal lives like vultures at a carcass. I just want this to ourselves for a little while. I don't want to share this, you, yet.' He paused, considering how they might compromise over their very different views. 'Sorry if that seems selfish,' he added.

'No, I'm glad you were honest. We'll wait for a while, it's fine. We'll know when it's the right time to tell them.'

'You don't mind?'

'Whatever makes you happy.'

'I think it's me who's meant to be saying that line.'

She turned her hand over in his grasp so she was holding his firmly. 'We make each other happy. This is a two way thing, you know.'

Alex had finished his beer and he noticed that Addison's glass was also empty. He smiled warmly at her, acknowledging her words, and put his beer bottle back on the bar. 'It's getting late.'

'You're right,' she said, and he felt her foot run carefully, lightly, up the back of his leg, which made a delicious shiver follow a similar course up his spine. 'So… what now?'

Oh, how easy it would be to take the empty glass out of her hand and lead her up to his room. To unzip her dress and lay her on his bed. And oh, how much he wanted to. He slid off the stool, and pulled her to her feet. 'Now, I think, I call you a cab.'

'Oh.' She couldn't hide the disappointment from her voice.

He stroked her cheek, marvelling to himself how soft her skin was. 'Addison, I would love more than anything to take you upstairs with me right now, I've hardly been able to think about anything else all evening, but I don't think it's a good idea tonight. We have to be at work in a few hours, and,' he smirked, 'all the things I want to do to you are going to take _far _longer than that.' She laughed, her eyes lighting up again when she realised this wasn't a rejection. 'Besides,' he added, 'I want to do this properly.'

'Properly?' she asked coyly.

'Take you out for dinner, on dates to the theatre or art galleries or whatever. You're a lady, Addison, and I have every intention of treating you like one this time.'

'Well, if you insist…'

'I do.' There was such an intense, sincere, look in his eyes as he replied it almost took her breath away.

'In that case, perhaps you might like to call this lady a cab.'

'That I can do.'

It didn't take long for the traditional black cab to draw up to the hotel, and he opened the door for her. 'Look, don't worry about being in for rounds tomorrow, I'll deal with it. You get some sleep.'

'Alex, you don't have to do that for me.'

'Don't worry, enjoy your lie in. Just make sure you bring me a coffee when you do come in.'

She smiled softly. 'It's a deal then, thank you. And thank you for such a lovely evening. It's been beautiful. Perfect.'

He kissed her gently. 'Good, I'm glad you've enjoyed it. Goodnight Addison.'

'Goodnight.' She climbed into the cab, and he closed the door after her. As it began to pull away, he saw her mouth something at him, and he was pretty sure it looked like _I love you. _

As he walked back into the hotel, he checked his watch. Man, he was going to be tired tomorrow. Worth it though.

_Author's Note: And now, as a reward for reading the chapter, you can have a little spoiler… (Ha, did you think I'd forgotten?) The new story is going to be called 'Be careful what you wish for' and will be set about three years post season four. If you want more than that, just below here there is a nice button saying Review on it that you can press to ask me._


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: Again, as always, thank you for your reviews, comments, and the interest you show in this story. I never get bored of hearing what you have to say about it. Sorry it's taken me a week to update this again, I've been pretty busy, but I'll try to pull my socks up a bit.

Disclaimer: As before

Three hours was _not _enough sleep, Alex groaned to himself as he rode the elevator up to the third floor, where his and Addison's office was situated. Three hours hadn't been enough as an intern, and it _definitely _wasn't enough now. He was getting too old for the whole going out thing, and wondered how he used to be able to manage it. Not that last night had been "going out" as such, but still. The trouble was, he mused, that a night _in _with Addison was likely to lead to even less sleep.

He made his way, slightly dazed from the lack of rest, along the corridor to his office. He had fifteen minutes before rounds, and sitting in the rattling, half empty carriage on the tube on his way in, the thought occurred to him that he still had Michael's coffee. A cup of Kenyan Roast would go down a treat right now.

He shrugged his coat off and threw it over the back of his chair; no doubt Addison would tut at him later for his messiness, but in truth, she was no tidier herself, even now her desk was liberally littered with papers. He filled the kettle at the little sink that was in the corner by the window, and switched it on. The blinds on the window were closed but he was too bushed to open them.

As he waited for the water to boil, he flicked through a few memos that were lying on his desk – blood doning in the radiology conference room next Tuesday, a retirement party for a departing nurse at the weekend, an approval request form for another three incubators that the SCBU wanted him to lend his support to. None of it was urgent, although if he had a minute later, he should probably pop over to SCBU and have a word with Doctor Shaw, that piece of paper had been sitting in the same spot on his desk for over a week.

The kettle was coming to the boil, and he turned back to it. When he reached for the tin of coffee that had been there though, it was gone.

'Looking for something?'

The voice came out of nowhere, and Alex jumped in surprise. He spun around to see Michael Newton-Jones sitting in the far corner.

'Holy shit Michael,' he exclaimed, 'was the drama really necessary?'

'We are talking about _coffee _Alex. There are no lengths to which I will not go to protect my supply, or to gain revenge on those who plunder it.'

'Idiot,' Alex replied succinctly, and took another mug out of the cupboard. He held his hand out for the tin, and after a moment of hesitation, Michael tossed it over to him.

'You'd better have a good reason for stealing my coffee Alex,' Michael said a minute later, when they were both sitting down, hands wrapped around the hot drinks against the early morning cold.

'I do,' Alex said with a smug grin.

Michael raised an eyebrow enquiringly, but Alex didn't give him an answer right away – he deserved to be kept waiting a little after that stupid breaking into his office stunt; he didn't think his heart rate had quite returned to normal yet. Besides, he enjoyed these battles now just as much as Michael did.

Eventually, Michael broke first and rolled his eyes with a sigh. 'And what might that good excuse be?'

'Addison and I came to a truce yesterday over a cafetière of your excellent Kenyan Roast.'

'Ah-ha, then your treachery might not have been entirely wasted. What do you mean by a truce?'

'A cessation of hostilities.' Christ, he was even beginning to talk like Michael. He needed to hang out with normal people more often.

'When were there hostilities?'

'There weren't, not really, but I was pretty sure there were going to be yesterday morning.'

'Oh yes, of course, your game of hide and seek.'

Alex scoffed. 'Fine one you are to talk about hide and seek. You haven't called Clare Townsend in three weeks – if you _must _have affairs with nurses, can you not choose _my _scrub nurses? She's been useless in the OR since you slept with her.'

'You digress,' Michael said pointedly.

'All right, we came to a truce over coffee, and an agreement over dinner.'

'And what did you agree?' He didn't really have to ask. The older man could see the smile, a deep seated peace, in Alex's sleep deprived eyes; he'd known since the second he saw him enter the office. In fact, he'd had a fair idea ever since he'd noticed his coffee was missing. Only his secretary – a staunch tea drinker – and Alex knew where he kept it.

'You know how I said I'd tell you if the situation between Addison and I changed?' Michael nodded. 'Well, consider this your notification.'

'So you're…'

'Dating, I guess,' Alex finished for him, then considered his words. 'A little more that that really, in a relationship.' He was trying terms out loud, but none of them seemed quite right for them. 'I don't know, it's kind of undefined. But we're definitely…'

He let the sentence hang in the air. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that there wasn't some conventional term or title or phrase to apply to them. They had the bond of history between them, shared experiences and moments, that had given them sort of a fast track to being in love with each other now, but the relationship between them was so new that there was still a tinge of uncertainty to it all. On one side of the coin, they had been in love with each other effectively for seven years, on the other side, they had only been on one real date. How do you describe that?

'Good,' said Michael emphatically, distracting him from his thoughts. 'About bloody time.' Then a frown flashed across his face. 'This happened yesterday? The twenty second?'

'Um, yeah,' Alex said, not sure what he was getting at.

'Morning or afternoon?'

'Huh?'

'Pre or post noon? Am or pm?'

'Pm. Why?' There was a gleam of something vaguely akin to triumph in Michael's eyes that aroused Alex's suspicions.

'Would you be less offended to hear I just won seven hundred and fifty pounds in the pool we had going on you if I said I would take you and Addison out to dinner on the proceeds?'

'Infinitely.'

'That's decided then.'

Michael wasn't as given to torturing Addison as he was Alex, but when he saw her a few hours later, walking down the corridor with a grin bordering on the inane plastered on her face, he couldn't help himself. 'Addison,' he called out.

She spun around. 'Michael, morning, how are you?'

'Excellent thank you. Delighted to hear the happy news.'

'My god, he told you _already_?' She laughed. 'He just couldn't keep it in, could he?'

'Actually, I ambushed him as it happens. And, incidentally, if I were Alex, I would be shouting it from the rooftops right now. The whole of London would know.'

'One of the main reasons why I am with Alex, and not you then Michael,' she said. Michael always adopted a gallant air of flattery towards her, but he'd always respected that she was Alex's girl, even when she wasn't.

'Congratulations. I'm happy for you.'

'Thank you. I'm happy for me too.'

The Alex Karev he knew now was an extraordinary man, but Michael had done his homework, and knew he hadn't always been so, not overtly anyway. He wondered how this somewhat epic love story had started – and to him, it was an epic love story. These two people had loved each other, unknowingly, without any hope of realisation of their dreams, for seven years of absence from each other. He got bored when he hadn't seen his wife for seven hours. What Alex and Addison had was, to him, completely unfathomable, but utterly admirable.

'Why him?'

'I'm sorry?'

'I don't mean now,' he explained. 'Now is obvious. But every surgeon of note in the northern hemisphere had heard of Derek and Addison Shepherd. Why an intern after that?'

He knew the question was somewhat inappropriate, but he and Addison had become something approaching friends in the time that she had been there, and he was fairly sure she wouldn't be offended.

'Because Alex didn't judge me. He couldn't care less that I cheated on Derek, or that I came to Seattle to steal back Meredith's great love. Of course, he was an arrogant little sod at first, hated that he was stuck on OB/GYN, but… I don't know. He…' She remembered his words, and the warmth that she felt trickle through her as he said them. The warmth that was there all the time now. 'He'd have noticed, if I went missing. He would have noticed. And he was the only one.'

'I don't believe that for a minute,' Michael said.

'It's true. When I needed someone, Alex was there, and in those few months, I fell in love with him. I didn't mean to, and I didn't want to, but ever since, no-one's even been able to come close.' She gave a little shrug. 'It's simple really. I wish we'd seen it like that at the time.'

Michael touched her briefly on the arm. 'Well, I'm happy for you now,' he repeated.

She smiled back at him, and he saw the exact same expression of love and peace and contentment in her eyes as had been in Alex's. 'Thank you.'

Suddenly, her pager went off. 'Sorry, I'd better…'

'Yes, of course.' He watched her walk away, and called out after her. 'So, does this mean you and I are definitely off the table?' he joked.

'Yes Michael,' she laughed back at him over her shoulder. 'Definitely off the table.'

_Author's Note: Anyone for a little spoiler? Well, a little one is what you're going to get – I don't want to give away too much too soon. In the reviews I received on the last chapter, there were two guesses as to what 'Be careful what you wish for' would be about, and I can now tell you, one of you was spot on and the other was not. By the way, the first chapter is all written already, but I'm not going to post it until this story is finished. Because I'm mean._


	23. Chapter 23

Author's Note: Thank you, as always, for the reviews on the last chapter. This one has taken me a little while to think up, as I couldn't think up a way to move the story forward, but I'm there now, so I hope you like this. And don't worry, this story will not be cut short in favour of the next one, but it is coming to an end sometime in the near future (precisely how near will depend on how often I update) and I have the next one all planned as I wouldn't want to leave you without anything to read now, would I? This is just a short little chapter, but I already have the next one thought out, so I promise you won't have to wait long for it.

By the way, Marks and Spencer's is a high end supermarket (I feel a little derogatory calling them a supermarket to be honest!) in the UK who happen to have a very delicious range of convenience foods. Addison would definitely do her grocery shopping there.

Disclaimer: As before. And probably something along the lines of in addition to _not _owning Grey's Anatomy, funnily enough, I don't own Marks and Spencer's either. Only a very nice jumper I bought from there last week.

Addison stretched out on her mocha suede couch (could you actually be _in love _with a couch?) and revelled in its comfort. Alex had been stuck in surgery so she said she would go back to the flat and cook them some dinner, but she was hardly the domesticated kind and even though she had recently expanded her culinary skills to incorporate pretty much anything you could buy from Marks and Spencer's, it was still an effort to produce anything more nutritious than a glass of Merlot after a twelve hour shift. On reflection, they probably should have gone back to the hotel.

It had been a fortnight, and four dates – they'd been too tired from work for more than that – since the night of their candlelit meal, and it had left her feeling… invigorated. She had genuinely forgotten how it felt to be her old self again, and she loved it. In fact, when she really thought about it, she thought she might just be a _better _person than before. She was certainly stronger, wiser, braver; it was a cliché, but what didn't kill you honestly did make you stronger, or that was how it had worked for her anyway.

And now, _finally_, she was getting her reward.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of the telephone cut across her thoughts, and she reluctantly rose up to answer it, assuming it was Alex, to tell her he was on his way back.

'Hey,' she said with a warm intimacy, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

'Hey yourself Addison,' replied a voice that wasn't Alex's.

_Shit. _'Callie. Hi,' she tried, a little too brightly. She was bound to be caught out. Callie was ridiculously observant, and she wasn't an easy person to fool.

'You were expecting a call.' Statement, not question.

'Not really, but I'm glad I've got one.' _Lying _and _crawling; because she's not going to spot that, _at all. _Good move Addison. _

'You're lying,' Callie responded instantly, 'but anyway. How are you? How's London? Tell me all about it, how are you settling in?'

The guilt of disappearing off the radar had eventually caught up with her, and a few days ago, she'd called Callie to tell her of the move, but she'd already heard thanks to the Seattle Grace grapevine (or more specifically, Derek, who had heard from Sam). Luckily, no-one seemed to have cottoned onto the fact that she and Alex were at the same hospital though.

'London's amazing,' she sighed happily. 'I just love it here Callie. I… It's not really something I can put my finger on, but it's fantastic. There are so many beautiful buildings, and everything has this fascinating history to it. And they actually do have red buses, and black cabs, but they don't talk anything like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.' Callie laughed as Addison enthused about her new home.

'Not that I've had the time to explore _any _of it,' she continued. 'Well, except Harrods, _obviously._'

'Obviously,' Callie agreed.

'But anyway, enough about me. What about you? What's your news?'

'_Not _enough about you, Addison Montgomery, not enough at all, and don't think for a second I'm going to let you get away with it. But I am very well, thank you for asking.'

'How's everything in Seattle?'

'Hectic, as usual. You know Meredith's pregnant of course. Nearly seven months now.'

She did. Alex had told her, quietly, gently, a week ago. They had managed to co-ordinate their lunches and took the bus to the park, walking hand in hand in the thin winter sunlight. He'd said it as if he wasn't sure if the news had the power to hurt her or not, and they'd both been pleased when they found it didn't.

'I do. But I wasn't really asking about anyone else. How are things with you?'

'Same old, same old. You know how it is.'

'So you and Mark are still…?'

'You had to ask, didn't you?'

'I'm merely implying that you are both adults, even though with Mark it's sometimes hard to tell, and that perhaps, after _eight years _of casual sex, it might be time to admit to each other that there may be more to it than a quick jump in a supply cupboard.'

'Fine one you are to talk,' Callie retorted. 'You do know that Alex is in London, don't you?'

Addison _burned _to tell her friend the news of her and Alex's relationship. Most people at work now knew, and they'd had a great evening out with Steve and Tina – Alex was right, she and Tina had hit it off instantly – and another with Michael, but she wanted to tell someone who _understood._

It was working its way to the tip of her tongue, but she stopped it firmly before it got there. Her loyalty to Alex was far too great to tell anyone if he didn't want her to.

Instead, she answered Callie's question with what she hoped was a genuinely casual, slightly sarcastic air. 'I believe you may have mentioned it before.'

'So, have you called him? Apparently he's at Great Ormond Street. Remember those lines of deliciousness.'

'I haven't called him Callie. Remember the humiliation and rejection. I didn't come to London because of Alex Karev; I needed a fresh start.'

There was a long, transatlantic silence, and Addison could almost hear the cogs in Callie's mind working their way closer to the truth.

'Fresh start, eh?'

'Yes,' Addison said slowly, as if she was explaining something to a five year old.

'Not a fresh start with anyone in particular?'

'We've been through this.'

'…Because you were definitely waiting for a phone call. A phone call from someone who you knew really well, someone who you were happy to hear from. Now, you look me in the eye Addison Montgomery, and tell me you haven't heard from Alex.'

'Callie, you're being ridiculous, how on earth can I look you in the eye? We're on the phone.'

'Are you avoiding my question?'

'It wasn't so much a question as an order.'

'So?'

She took a deep breath, and consoled herself with the fact that Callie would be the very first person she told, then the lie came out. 'So nothing Callie. There's nothing to tell. I haven't called Alex, and he hasn't called me.' _Well, not in a couple of hours, anyway._

'So, who was the phone call you were expecting if it wasn't Karev?'

'I'm not prepared to divulge that information at this stage, but I promise you'll be the first to know, okay?'

'Is that the best you're going to do?'

'Yep.'

'Well, I'll have to be happy with that then.'

'You will, for now anyway. Now, let me tell you all about my apartment. I have got the most beautiful couch you have ever seen…'

_Hmm, what spoiler shall I release next? I could tell you that it's going to be an Addex story, but as far as I'm concerned, that goes without saying, so I feel like I should give you something else. However, I've still got another few chapters of this story to go and if I tell you something every time, there'll be no surprises left. If you ask questions though, I may be tempted to give answers. _


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: See, I said you wouldn't have to wait too long for this chapter, didn't I? I'm actually a little bit impressed with myself – less than a week between updates! Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I know I say it every time, but I do mean it, and I honestly never stop getting excited to see a new review sitting in my inbox. Just so you know, I may be a bit busy now until after the New Year, so I'm stockpiling chapters; the next two are already written, and I will be releasing them at various intervals.

The London Eye, in case anyone hasn't heard of it, is a gigantic ferris wheel (although calling the London Eye a ferris wheel is a similar sort of thing as calling Marks and Spencer's a supermarket) that was put up for the Millennium on London's South Bank and has remained there ever since. It's a pretty spectacular addition to the skyline. By the way, I'm loving the Marks and Spencer's love! It's my greatest weakness, especially Percy Pigs!!

Disclaimer: As before

It was gone ten o'clock by the time Alex was finally finished in the OR and felt happy enough with the situation to leave his registrar to finish closing up. They had been correcting a duodenal atresia, but you could never tell when even a reasonably straightforward surgery was going to get complicated, especially with babies, and there had been a few scary moments when he couldn't find a bleeder that had made his heart race.

He scrubbed out carefully, watching through the window at his team finishing off. They were good, and he felt proud of the way they were coming along. He still couldn't believe, occasionally, that he was here. He was working at one of the most renowned hospitals in, well, the world really, and he was building a name for himself. He thought back to when he'd been a med student and read papers by people with names like Mark Sloan and Derek Shepherd (he had to admit he'd never read one of Addison's back then – a fact that he'd more than corrected since) and being impressed by their knowledge, that if they said something, it was considered to be correct on the grounds _they _had said it.

He might not be quite there yet, but sometimes, when Michael had dragged him along to some meeting or networking event, he saw a flicker of recognition in people's eyes when he was introduced to them, and he realised his reputation was beginning to precede him. Which was probably solely down to Michael, but still, it felt good. And he had to admit, he felt… proud of himself, which wasn't something he'd ever really experienced before. When he told Addison, she'd smiled, and kissed him, and told him that he had a _lot _to be proud of.

Addison. They'd been together for two weeks now, and so far, he hadn't screwed up. In fact, he'd been doing rather well, he thought. He'd orchestrated four dates, the best of which had been a bottle of champagne and two glasses smuggled onto the London Eye, and all of which had been successful. He'd forgotten how well he and Addison got on with each other. She was easy to talk to, quick and witty, and they found that despite the long estrangement, they still knew each other well, and somehow seemed to have the comfortable intimacy that only time could bring. And he'd never, ever been happier, never thought that this sort of happy even existed.

That wasn't to say, of course, that it was going to be all plain sailing. Ever since she'd arrived in London, Meredith's pregnancy had been weighing on his mind. He wasn't sure that Addison had a _right _to know as such, but if he knew, then she certainly should as well, but he was reluctant to broach the subject. If the truth be told, he was scared. He was scared that he would tell her that Derek was having a baby with someone else, and he would see regret in her eyes, and his underlying belief of being her second choice (or maybe even third, after both Derek and Sloan) that she was gradually eroding would be confirmed once and for all. But in the end, he'd decided he couldn't _not _tell her, so he'd taken her to the park and broke the news as gently as he could, hoping and praying that it would be okay.

She'd stopped walking, and went very still for a moment, then a smile lit up her face. 'Really? That's lovely news, they'll be fabulous parents.'

She'd sounded genuine, but he'd scanned her expression for any signs of hurt. 'You're not…'

'Upset? Hurt?'

'I don't know, I guess. Are you?'

'No. Not in that way at all. That was all a long time ago, and we're all happier now than we were before, so… And I mean it, Derek and Meredith are the sort of people who _should _have children, they really will be great parents.' It was her turn to look at him deeply. 'What did you think I was going to say?'

'I genuinely didn't know. But I'm glad that's the way you feel.'

She'd rested her head on his shoulder, and he put his arms around her, firmly pulling her into his embrace and holding her against his chest.

After he'd scrubbed out, he stopped briefly at the nurses' station on his ward to check there was nothing that he needed to attend to before he left, and had a quick chat with the parents of the duodenal atresia baby, reassuring them that the procedure had gone well and their son should be back in the NICU soon.

He'd then gone back to his office to call Addison before he left. When he got there though, the light on the answering machine was flashing. He played the message while he was putting his coat on.

'_Three days in a row I've called you, and no answer. Either you're avoiding me, or you've actually gone and got yourself a life. In which case, you should be telling me all about it. Call me, I'm at work.'_

He looked at his watch. Izzie probably deserved a call back; it had been over a week since he'd last spoken to her, but he should be leaving really. Then he reasoned he was late anyway, and in the unlikely event Addison had actually cooked dinner it would already be pretty much ruined. Which didn't really matter; he was too tired to be hungry and would be more than happy with a beer and just being with her.

He dialled the number of the main surgical department line at Seattle Grace, and asked for Izzie. It wasn't long before she came to the phone – must be a quiet day.

'Hey,' he said.

'Where've you been? I was beginning to think you'd dropped off the face of the earth.'

'Stop exaggerating, it's only been a week since we last spoke.'

'Well, I've been calling at the usual time for three days and you never pick up.'

'Sorry, I've been crazy busy.' Which was true, although on one of those evenings he had actually managed to leave at the end of his seven o'clock shift in plenty of time to take Addison out to dinner.

'At least you're calling now I suppose. So what's your news anyway? You sound different.'

'Different?'

'Happy.'

'Not a crime, is it?'

'Not for normal people is isn't, but these last few years, I've been beginning to think that you see it as one. You sound as if something really good has happened to you.'

He thought about what she was saying for a minute, and realised that while she might not be wrong, there was something else. She sounded the same. 'So do you,' he replied.

'What?'

'You sound different too, happy different. Who is he?'

'I asked first.'

'Well, I don't have a _he _who's making me happy.'

'But you do have a _she_?'

There was no way he was going to tell Izzie about Addison yet, partly because he was really tired, and couldn't cope with the high pitched squeal that he knew would come. But he also knew that her suspicion had already been raised, and he had to tread carefully. 'There sort of is someone,' he said, trying to keep his tone casual. 'I met her at work, but it's nothing to get excited about.'

There were a few small squeals. 'Ooh, I want details.'

'There aren't all that many yet, it's really early days.' Well, that wasn't exactly a lie. It was early days in that way, he and Addison hadn't even… yet. 'But I promise that you'll be the first to know when there's something to tell. What about you? Who is he?' he asked again, hoping he'd done enough to keep her off his back for a little longer.

'All right, I'll let you off for now, on the grounds that I'm so pleased that you followed my orders and got a girlfriend that I'm not going to punish you by grilling you about it. But if I don't get to know about yours, I don't see why you should get to know about mine.'

'Because you're dying to tell me Izzie. I can hear it in your voice.'

He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him. 'He's a teacher, fifth grade. Called Jason. And that's all you get.'

'That'll do for now. Look, I hate to cut you off, and I know I owe you a proper phone call, but I have to go.'

'My my, aren't we keen to be gone when we've got someone to go home with?'

'Pipe down.'

'By the way, talking about home, have you got one yet? Or are you still living in that hotel?'

'I'm still in the hotel. I've told you before, I like it there.'

'Alex, for God's sake, you can't _live _in a hotel.'

'I'm hanging up now…'

'Fine. Now take care of yourself.'

'You too. Good luck with Jason.'

_All right, you've got me. The title 'Be careful what you wish for' was the giveaway really, wasn't it? McMuffin is right, there may be the patter of little footsteps on the way in the next story. _


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: Yes, it really is another chapter. Already. Just in case you were thinking I'm on some amazing writing roll (or else I gave my muses a little too much caffeine) this was actually originally the second half of the previous chapter, but by the time it was all written, I realised it was more than long enough to be two chapters, and split in half easily as well. So you get two for the price of one.

And may I take this opportunity to draw your attention to a little one-shot I have recently posted entitled _"Great Expectations"_ and is Addison's musings about coffee. As you will see if you read it, it's kinda different so I would love to hear what you think of it.

Disclaimer: As before.

When he got back to Addison's apartment, he let himself into the building – he had a key – and stepped into the lift. He was still struck by the opulence and beauty of the place every time he came, but at the same time, he was getting used to it, and he couldn't imagine Addison living anywhere else. It suited her down to the ground, and he ignored the fact, or at least, pretended to, that it was kind of beginning to suit him as well.

When the lift doors slid open, he wasn't greeted by the smell of food, burnt or otherwise, which he decided was a good sign. The huge space was dimly lit by only the fairy lights wrapped around the beams, a large lamp in the sitting area and a glowing fire, which he was rather impressed at – normally Addison made him get the fire going.

There was a bottle of wine and an extra glass on the kitchen counter, and he let his bag fall off his shoulder onto the floor and made his way over to it. In all honesty, he'd been fantasising about an ice cold beer, but the wine was right there, so…

Looking around, he could see Addison stretched out on her favourite couch, chatting away on the phone. She was wearing the same clothes she had worn to work, a smart grey pencil shirt and white tailored shirt, both of which hugged her body in a way that had made him lose concentration more than once during the day, but she had kicked her shoes off and they were lying haphazardly on the floor. She looked utterly relaxed as she leaned back, laughing about something and running her hand through her long red hair. It shone even brighter and more vividly in the firelight, and he was struck all over again by just how _beautiful _she was. God, he could watch her all night.

He poured himself a glass of wine and sat down next to her, lifting her legs up and draping them over his lap, absentmindedly running the back of his fingers up and down the smooth skin of her calf. How did she look so good after a long day at work? He never would get how she managed that. After a twelve hour shift, he invariably had a five o'clock shadow on his chin, bags under his eyes, and more often than not, bodily fluid of some unmentionable kind on his shoes, yet she was pristine.

After a couple of minutes of half-listening, he had got the gist of the conversation, and had worked out she was talking to Callie. He watched the view of the city at night while he waited for her to finish.

'Yes, it was good to talk to you too. I'm sorry for leaving it for so long and all that… Okay, I will sometime. No, no, I promise I will. And you'll have to come to London too… Take care babe.'

She put the phone down on the table next to her, and picked up her wine instead. 'Sorry about that. I didn't cook either I'm afraid, I sort of didn't get round to it. I was going to, but then I had a glass of wine, then Callie called, and…'

'No worries. It's too late to eat anyway. How's Callie? Any news from Seattle?'

'She's good. And not really. Apparently Miranda still hasn't found anyone to replace you yet. Richard and Adele had a big party for their thirty fifth wedding anniversary last weekend, and threw it in the hospital, like…like the Prom.'

Her voice didn't change, but he heard the tiny hesitation in her voice as she plucked up the courage to force the words out, so he leant forward, and kissed her on the closest piece of skin he could reach, which happened to be her knee. Just because it was a long time ago, and they were all over it, that didn't mean it couldn't still hurt. For both of them – Denny had died that night, and no-one who had witnessed Izzie's shellshocked grief could ever look back on that night with happiness.

She gave him a smile that told him she didn't want to dwell on it. 'And Meredith's getting really big now.'

'Cool.'

'How was the surgery?'

'Okay in the end, he's in the NICU now. Sorry I was so long; I was on the phone to Izzie for a bit.'

'That's nice.' There was no bite of jealousy in her heart when he said that, and she realised how far they had come in a short time. 'How is she?'

'Her usual self, completely irrepressible. She could tell something had changed.'

'Callie could too.'

'Well, at least it's Izzie and Callie – they're not exactly going to sit down and have a good gossip about it.'

Addison laughed. 'No, I can't really see that somehow.'

'She still found something to nag me about though; I don't know how I ever used to put up with it. This time, it was her second favourite subject; that I'm still living in a hotel. Apparently I need to have a home.'

They had been looking at each other, but Addison turned away and looked down into her wine pensively. He could tell she was thinking about something but he wasn't sure what. He hoped it wasn't the whole Izzie thing again. If he had his head around the Derek and Sloan thing, then she should be able to understand about Izzie.

When she met his eyes again, she looked like she had made some sort of decision, and silently, he braced himself.

'You could have a home… if you wanted.'

He frowned in confusion. He had no idea what the Hell she was talking about, but at least it wasn't what he had been expecting. 'Huh?'

'I mean, move out of the hotel.'

'Well, I know I _could_, but I've said before, I like it there. It's close to the hospital, and here, and…'

He was cut off by Addison cuffing him on the back of his head, seriously endangering her precious couch with both their glasses of wine. 'Hey! What was that for? That actually hurt a little bit.'

'Trying to knock a little bit of sense into you, you idiot. Listen to what I'm saying. I would give you a key to help you along, but you've already got one, so…'

Slowly, it began to dawn on him what she was getting at. He sat up and moved away from her a little so he could look her in the eye better. 'Hang on a minute, are you suggesting…?'

'Yes, yes I am. Well, I'm asking I suppose. Do you… would you like to move in with me?'

He stared at her, the wind completely taken out of his sails. _Did she really say what I thought she did? _He thought of what she was offering – a home – and all that entailed. And she was offering it to him… Unless the cod-like gape he knew he was currently sporting was unappealing enough to make her change her mind of course. He tried to work his mouth to form some sort of response but nothing came out.

'Alex,' she said nervously, 'I'd really like it if you said something.'

'I…' he managed to stutter, but couldn't get any further.

'Anything. But please say it soon. You're making me nervous. And I talk too much when I'm nervous.' She paused, seeing if he was going to fill the silence that was left, but when he didn't, she couldn't help but carry on. 'I know it's kind of soon, well, okay, it's really soon if you look at as if we've only been dating for a fortnight, but… It hasn't just been a fortnight, not really, I –'

Eventually, his brain started to function properly again as the shock wore off, and he found the word he needed to allay her nerves.

'Yes.'

She stopped rambling abruptly. 'What? What did you say?'

'Yes,' he repeated, and leaned forward until he could almost taste her. 'I want to live with you Addison. I'm saying yes.'


	26. Chapter 26

Author's Note: Oops, I'd forgotten I'd written this. I was right when I thought I was going to be too busy to write recently, but it would probably help move the story forward if I actually remembered to post the stockpiled chapters, wouldn't it? Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, and this is another one wavering on the side of fluffy; hope very much that you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Disclaimer: As before

They lay on the couch, half entwined and with Addison resting across Alex's chest and listening to his heart beating quietly. They had drunk the rest of the wine, and watched soporifically as the fire burned down to all but glowing embers. After a long time, Alex stirred and sat up to put some more logs on it.

'No, stay here,' she said sleepily.

'It's cold, I'm just going to get the fire going again.' He lifted her carefully off his body and laid her down on the soft suede.

'All right,' she smiled lazily, 'don't be long.'

'I'm only going to be ten feet away.' He smirked back at her, loving the look of happy contentment that shone in her dark blue eyes. He knelt in front of the fireplace and took three logs out of the wicker basket that was next to the hearth and used the poker to try to prod the flames back into life.

'I hope you know I'm never letting you go further than ten feet away from me ever again.'

The fire was showing some tentative signs of picking up again as the flames licked at the new logs, so he left it to his own devices and returned to the couch, sliding back beside Addison's warm body. He wound his arm around her waist, lightly stroking her stomach with his thumb, just above the waistband of her skirt, and she snuggled into him.

Gently, he lifted her hair to one side and kissed her neck.

'Mmm,' she murmured.

'So, I was thinking,' he said slowly against skin that still, somehow, smelt of the same Chanel No 5 it had that morning when he had greeted her, fresh and fragrant, in the ambulance bay outside the hospital, 'this whole moving in deal… How soon were you talking about?'

Addison wriggled around in his arms until she was facing him, and when he dipped his head to kiss her again, she met him partway, and for a moment, they were lost in each other. He wound his hand carefully in her hair, and eased his tongue between her open lips, and was rewarded with a soft moan.

'I asked you a question.' He moved his attention along her jawline to a spot just below her ear that he knew made her squirm.

'You haven't exactly given me a chance to answer.' Reluctantly, Addison pushed him off her and they both sat up.

'Well?' He'd developed a habit, dating back from the night at Trafalgar Square, of playing with her fingers as he held her hand, and he started doing the same again. She smiled down at their long, surgeon's fingers all knotted together.

'I don't know. Whenever you can. I mean, how soon can you…?'

'I've got a day off tomorrow,' he suggested.

'What?' she asked quickly.

'It doesn't have to be tomorrow,' he said hurriedly, picking up on her alarmed tone. 'It's just, I'll have the time, and I don't know when I'll next have the chance. And it's not as if I have to give the hotel notice, or anything like that. But don't worry about it, if it's too soon – '

'No,' Addison interrupted him. 'You know what, tomorrow would be perfect.'

He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, and began to disentangle himself from her. 'Well, in that case, I had better be going,' he said, with a regretful tone.

Addison stuck her bottom lip out in an endearing pout, and looked up at him with big, appealing, puppy dog eyes.

'It's late.'

'Exactly. Why go?' she asked.

'Because I told you I wanted to do this properly Addison, and I meant it.'

'We're moving in together tomorrow, don't you think that the waiting thing might be about to go out the window anyway?' she said seductively. He was standing up now, although still close enough to the couch for her to be able to run her foot teasingly up the side of his leg.

He grabbed her foot by the ankle, and tickled it, eliciting a girlish shriek from her. 'Just think how good tomorrow night will be.'

Her voice became serious. 'Please stay.'

He dropped her foot, and went back to perch next to her on the couch. Carefully, he tucked a tress of red hair behind her ear, and stroked her cheek lightly. 'Not tonight. I need to be at the hotel really, to check out and everything in the morning. It'll be a lot easier.'

She looked unconvinced.

'Then I promise you Addison, from tomorrow night onwards, I'm never going to spend another night apart from you ever again.'

'What, never?' she laughed, but he answered in earnest.

'Not if I can help it.'

Something in his eyes as he gazed at her reminded Addison of a moment long ago, in Seattle, when Meredith was recovering after her near drowning during the ferry crash. Derek had been sitting at her bedside, watching over her with _such _a look of love in his eyes, as if his world would end if she died, as if _he _would die if she died, and she'd known, in her heart of hearts, that the way he loved Meredith utterly outshone what he'd felt for her.

She'd realised, a little later, on her long, mid-life crisis inspired drive to California, that she was thirty nine years old, and no-one had _ever _looked at her like that. And now she was forty six, and for the first time ever, she knew what it felt like to be the very centre of someone's world. _Alex Karev's world_.

She leaned into his caress of her cheek and planted a soft kiss on his rough palm. 'Okay.'

'Okay?'

'Okay, you can go. But on the sole condition that you never stop looking at me like that.'

He looked at her quizzically, his brow furrowing a little in confusion. 'Like what?'

'Like I'm your whole universe. Like you couldn't live without me… Like Derek looks at Meredith,' she explained, baulking a little at using the final analogy, but it was the closest way of describing what she meant.

'I couldn't live without you Addison,' he said simply. 'For all the years that you were gone, what I did, you couldn't call it "living". First there was the disaster with Rebecca, then Izzie and I… We were both dead inside then, in a way. And ever since, I've just worked. I've filled every minute of my life with medicine so I didn't have the opportunity to think about the fact that that was all I had.'

'It makes me sad to hear you say that,' she admitted. 'You're young, much younger than I am. You shouldn't be that screwed up.'

'I always have been. And at least I've been able to do some good over the years. But none of that matters now.'

This time, she noticed, as he spoke he was playing with the third finger of her left hand. It was an idle gesture; like all habits, he seemed barely aware that he was doing it, but it still set her mind racing, even though the more rational side of her was telling her not to be so stupid.

The only thing she had been sure of over the intervening years since Seattle was that she never wanted to get married again, but London had revitalised her in every possible way and her conviction on the point was slipping away. Why would you not want to marry someone who loved you, who you loved, like you were the only two people in the world? But she was getting ahead of herself.

'I love you,' she told him instead.

He gave her one last kiss before moving towards the door. 'I love you too.'


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: Right, I've set myself a little (quite possibly completely unachievable) target: I'd really like to get this story finished before Christmas. In return (oh yes, you never get something for nothing!) I'd absolutely love it to reach 200 reviews, so you know where that little button is folks. As always, thank you for all the reviews you have given this story thus far, it's great to hear that you've enjoyed it. I'm really not sure about this chapter, but I always find that the easiest way to get past writers' block is to force yourself to write through it. I'm afraid the results tend to be a little unpretty, but I hope you will bear with me. I already have the next chapter in my head, so I hope that will be better.

Disclaimer: As before

It was nearly half past twelve when Alex's cab drew up outside the hotel and he stepped out into the freezing night. The air was so cold he could see the cloud of his breath hanging in front of him, and he paid the driver quickly and hurried up the steps two at a time.

'Alex.' A voice cut through the night from a shadow that was lurking on the far side of the door.

He looked around and saw a familiar silhouette step out into the light that was shining through the glass doors from the foyer. 'Steve, what the Hell are you doing out here? It's freezing.'

'Waiting for Tina to pick me up. She's been to see her sister tonight and virtually has to pass by here on the way home,' he explained.

'Yeah, but it's _cold _dude. What's wrong with the foyer?'

'It was a long shift, I felt like some fresh air.'

'Fresh? This is in a whole different league.' Alex crossed his arms and shifted from foot to foot in an effort to keep his circulation going; he could practically feel the ice crystals forming in his veins. 'Busy night then, was it?' he said conversationally.

'Big group of salesmen in town for a conference. All showing off of course – if I had one fifty pound note waved in my face, I had a hundred of them, but at least the takings were good. You're back late,' he added pointedly.

'I was at Addison's.'

'Well, I guessed that much. What happened? You've got an inane grin on your face, you know. And lipstick.'

Alex sighed, and felt his face stretch into an even wider smile. He wondered if it would ever go back to normal, but decided if it didn't, that would be okay. He wanted this feeling forever. 'I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I guess there's no harm in doing it now. I'm leaving in the morning, moving out of the hotel. Addison asked me –'

He was cut off by Steve clapping him on the back so hard that it knocked the rest of the sentence out of him. 'Dude, you're moving in together? You and Addison are moving in together?'

'Yeah.'

'That's amazing news.'

'Yeah, I reckon so. Man, I can't believe it's actually happening.' He shook his head a little, as if he still couldn't quite comprehend it. 'I always expected it to be good you know, but never this _natural. _I mean, it's only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like the right thing to do.'

'Of course it does,' Steve said simply. 'Sometimes you just know.'

'Is that what it was like with Tina?'

Steve laughed. 'Definitely not. We were married for a year and divorced for two before I realised I was in love with her. She had moved to England by then, and I came after her.' Alex looked at him incredulously. 'Honestly. But what I'm saying is that love isn't some fairy story, it's much more real than that. It's _better _than that.'

'I kinda wish I'd realised that years ago.'

'Nah, you don't. It's better when you have to wait for it. And besides, you can't possibly possess that much wisdom until you're in your thirties.'

Just then, a silver Mini Cooper pulled up in the empty taxi rank at the foot of the steps and the window rolled down. 'Hey guys, what are you doing out here?'

'Tough guy here wanted to freeze his balls off.' Alex indicated to Steve, who was already bounding down the steps to jump into the warm car.

'Crazy, the pair of you,' Tina replied dryly.

'Alex has some big news,' Steve interrupted, and immediately Tina's eyes lit up with interest.

'Ooh, what?'

Alex made a pretence of rolling his eyes and sighing resignedly; in truth, he felt a little buzz of excitement at sharing it with people. He wondered, briefly, if that might mean it was time to tell everyone back in Seattle, but he thought it might be best to get tomorrow out of the way first.

'I'm moving in with Addison.'

Tina flashed him a huge smile and immediately began gushing. 'Congratulations Alex, that's wonderful news, I'm really happy for you both. When did you decide this?'

'This evening.'

'And they're not hanging about either,' Steve interjected gleefully. 'He's leaving the grandiose opulence of the Thames House Hotel for Addison's significantly greater charms in the morning.'

'The morning? Well, you'll be needing a hand, won't you?' Tina had a mother hen glint in her eye not dissimilar to Izzie's when she'd dragged him suit shopping before his interview over here. Hell, that seemed like a long time ago now.

'Thanks Tina, but really, it's fine, I don't have a lot of stuff. Just a couple of cases and a few suit bags.'

'Nonsense. You can't take suitcases on the underground, at least let us drive you.'

Alex looked sceptically at the small car, and raised an eyebrow. 'What, you got a secret compartment in that thing? A roof rack maybe, or perhaps a little trailer to pull along behind?'

'Don't be rude,' Tina gave him a stern look. What time are you checking out?'

'I'm not sure, whenever I'm ready I guess,' he shrugged.

'We'll pick you up at ten.'

Once they'd sped off, Alex hurried inside and up to his room. He flicked the light on, and hung his jacket up on the back of the door. He followed that by slipping his tie off, already helpfully loosened by Addison earlier, and took his cufflinks out, rolling his sleeves up a little.

When he was done, he sank down onto the bed and just sat there for a minute, trying to take the evening in. He was moving in with Addison. He and Addison were… well, it was real, it was actually happening, and, God willing, it was going to be for good. And that _felt _good.

The closest way he could describe it to himself, he thought, was that his heart felt full, overflowing. He could actually _feel _it beating, like it was going to burst out of his chest. He'd never felt as alive, not even in the OR with a scalpel in his hand, than he had with Addison tonight. And he couldn't really get his head around the fact that it could be like that forever.

He knew why he was bad at relationships. He hadn't needed any expensive therapy to know what his childhood had done to him. Every rational cell in his brain knew that he wasn't worthless or a waste of space, but if you tell a kid that enough times, they will believe it, and unless they're incredibly strong, which he wasn't, or incredibly lucky, which he thought he just might be, and meet someone with the ability to show them otherwise, they will carry on believing it for the rest of their lives.

Addison was that person for him. He guessed he should have known. He'd hated her at first, not because she'd breezed back into town and stolen away Derek from Meredith like the others did, but because she got under his skin. Trapped him in gynae and tortured him. All those nameless, faceless girls before her he had been utterly indifferent to, except perhaps Izzie, and indifference was one thing he'd never felt about Addison.

And he didn't know when he'd stopped hating her either, or when a few lust filled looks began to alert him to the fact that it might not just be lust that he was feeling. Although that kiss in Joe's had been a pointer for him – he'd never kissed, or been kissed, with such emotion before then.

He also didn't know when that sulky, traumatised fifteen year old kicked in and told him that a woman as amazing as Addison deserved a hell of a lot better than his sorry ass.

He did remember though, when he'd first seen the advert for the London job, how _right _it sounded, how convinced he was that going to London was going to be the answer for him. He'd thought it would make him feel alive again. He had never dared to hope it might bring him back to her.

He looked around the room. He'd been messy when he was younger but it had worn off as he'd grown older and it was spotlessly tidy now. It would take him about fifteen minutes to pack, if that, and he decided it could wait until the morning.

Before he went to bed though, there was one thing he wanted to do first. It was corny, he knew, and not very Karev-like at all, but he flicked open his phone and sent Addison a quick text.

'_Good night, love you.'_


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: Okay, before I even start, I would like to apologise for the rash, story finishing promise I made, promptly before dropping off the edge of the planet for the last three weeks, or however long it's been. My over-optimism was followed swiftly by an enormous virus/spyware problem that knocked the laptop out for a fortnight, and since then I've been recovering from New Years Eve (yes, it's the eleventh of January and I'm _still _recovering from New Years. What can I say, it was a good night!) So from now on, I'm going to keep my mouth shut and just write. (Hurrah I hear you all say.) Oh, and two hundred reviews? I love you.

Disclaimer: As before

Addison had been watching the clock, its hour hand dragging painfully slowly around its pale face, ever since around four thirty. She knew, of course, that her shift didn't end until seven, and it was busy so the chances of her being able to leave before, oh, nine o'clock, were slim, but still she was watching the clock. She ached to be at home with Alex.

At ten this morning, over a quick coffee in their office (she always sat at Alex's desk when he wasn't there) she had allowed herself to wonder how his packing was going, and by lunchtime, she began to imagine what her penthouse would look like with his things in it. The answer to which, naturally, was no different at all, because he didn't have any _stuff _and the only signs of his presence would be a second razor and toothbrush in the bathroom, a few shirts in the closet and more varied CD collection. But she still felt a little tingle shiver its way down her spine at the thought of it all the same.

She loved the idea that whenever she did get home tonight, he would be there. That he would always be _there_. One thing she missed about her marriage to Derek – just about the only thing, these days – was the sharing of space. Since leaving Seattle, although living in her fabulous, beautiful beach house overlooking the Pacific Ocean was idyllic, when she came home at night, everything was exactly as she had left it in the morning when she'd walked out of the door, and that had always depressed the Hell out of her. It seemed to her to epitomise the loneliness of her life. It emphasised, to the point of mockery, the fact that at the end of the day, she really was alone.

And now… From now on, when she came home from work maybe Alex's tie would be over the back of the couch, or his jacket hung on the peg by the door, or… Or something delicious for dinner would be cooking and there would be an enormous glass of red wine poured out and waiting for her. Whatever, it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he'd made a mess or moved her things (although there would be trouble if he'd spilt something on the suede couch), it wasn't about what the difference was; it was symbolic.

All that mattered was that there was something more than just work in her life and best of all, and that that something was Alex.

She was about to start a surgery, but there was a phone in the scrub room so before she started the ritual of washing, scrubbing, and on impulse she picked up the receiver and dialled her own number.

His voice was warm and familiar as he answered, as if he had been expecting her to call. 'Hello?'

'Hey, it's only me,' she replied.

'Not _"only" _babe. How are you?'

'Okay. Busy. I'm about to scrub in with Plastics on a cleft palate repair on the Timms baby. I was just calling to see how the move went.'

He chuckled softly; the "move", as she called it, had taken about half an hour, and most of that was taken up by the drive through the omnipresent London traffic from the hotel to the penthouse, and working out how to fit two suitcases into the trunk of Tina's car. People always said that moving house was the most stressful thing you ever had to do, but the stress of his particular experience earlier had been when Steve had started trying out gadgets in the kitchen that fascinated him and Alex had become a little jumpy that Addison would come home and wonder why the Hell there were a dozen cans of soup open and that the batteries were dead in her electric can opener.

When he'd finally kicked Steve and Tina out after rooting through the cupboards, and feeding them smoked salmon sandwiches for lunch (typical Addison – no cheese or ham or tuna or anything a normal person would put in a sandwich, but smoked salmon galore), he'd unpacked in all of ten minutes, and since then had been relaxing, making the most of a rare day off. However, after half an hour of daytime television, he swiftly remembered why he was a workaholic and after popping out to buy a few things for dinner, spent the rest of the day missing Addison. Her call had definitely been the highlight.

'It was fine, uneventful. Would have been better if you were here to welcome me though,' he said. 'Cleft palate repair, hey?' he added with interest. 'Who are you operating with?'

'Edwards. It could be a long one though, I wanted to let you know that I might be late home tonight.'

She heard him laughing down the phone. 'What?' she asked indignantly.

'You're going to be late? Okay dear, I'll keep the dinner warm in the oven until you get home,' he mocked.

'Oh, go to Hell.'

'No, I think it's charming, all this _domesticity. _I never knew the great Addison Montgomery had it in her.'

'I'm full of surprises,' she said sarcastically. Alex knew perfectly well that she lacked any sense of domestic skills to the point of needing the instruction manual to change the filter in the coffee percolator.

His voice softened. 'I can't wait to find out.'

God, just his tone could make her melt inside. Even Derek had never made her feel like such a teenager. 'Well, if I ever get home tonight…' She let the sentence hang in the air, her voice full of promise. Suddenly they were both very aware of what was on the agenda for when she did finish work.

There was a long moment of silence, which was interrupted at Addison's end with a tapping on the glass. Edwards was already scrubbed in and in the theatre – he was indicating at her to hurry up.

'Sorry, I've got to go. They're ready to start.'

'I'll see you later.' His voice was dripping with seduction, and her felt her pulse quicken at the thought of him.

'I'm looking forward to it.'

'Not half as much as I am Addison.'

Slowly, she turned on the tap, and started scrubbing, trying to calm herself with deep breaths. _Christ, how the Hell was she meant to do a surgery with _that _on her mind?_


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, it was, as always, great to hear your thoughts. Sorry for the bit of a wait for this update – I have no excuse, just simply hadn't gotten round to any writing. But now I have so hope you like it. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: As before.

The baby died. He died before they even had a chance to start the surgery, it was an adverse reaction to the anaesthetic, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't stabilise him again. They could all be great, world-leading surgeons, but at the end of the day, if they couldn't save one little boy… God damn it, what was the point? What was the point to any of it?

As always, telling the mother was the hardest part. And in the case of the Timms baby, it was just a mother, a girl herself – she couldn't be a day over twenty – who even before today had touched Addison's heart with her quiet strength. She was sitting in the long, sterile corridor around the corner from the operating room, her head resting on the shoulder of an older woman who could only be her own mother, when Addison went to tell her the news.

The girl raised her head at the sound of the footsteps, and immediately her face changed. She knew, already, that not nearly enough time had passed for the operation to have been successful, that her baby was gone. Mother's instinct. Addison had seen it plenty of times before, and somehow always found it harder to tell the ones that already knew. They were the composed ones, their tears were silent and their grief private, and there was nothing whatsoever you could say to help.

She took a deep breath. 'Miss Timms,' she began formally, then changed it to, 'Hannah.' She'd talked to the girl daily over her son's cot over the last week, _Hannah _was definitely more appropriate.

'Ms Montgomery.'

Addison saw her grasp her mother's hand so tightly that her knuckles whitened, and her eyes were starting to fill with tears. She didn't prolong the moment for any of them. 'Daniel has died, I'm so, so sorry Hannah. It was an adverse reaction to the anaesthetic; no-one could have predicted it and we did everything we could.'

Hannah's mother reached out to wipe a tear off her daughter's cheek and the simple gesture almost made a sob catch in Addison's own throat. Given how long she had been doing her job, she sometimes thought she was becoming immune to the unbelievable emotions attached to the bond between a mother and her child, but in truth, she never did. Any day of the week, it could spring out and surprise her, and she would find herself moved to tears.

'Thank you for telling me,' Hannah was saying softly. 'Did… did he… would he have known anything?' she stumbled.

'No,' Addison replied, 'he was asleep. He wouldn't have known.'

'Good.'

The conversation seemed to have ended, but Addison felt there should be more somehow, that she should _do _more. 'Is there anything I can do to help you Hannah, is there anyone I can call? Or…'

Hannah shook her head. 'No thank you Ms Montgomery. It's just me and Mum. Can… can I see him?'

'A nurse will come out and get you shortly.' The girl seemed to want information only, so that's all the Addison offered. Clearly the giving of comfort was the sole preserve of her mother.

She could feel the tears starting, and she couldn't cry in front of the baby's mother. 'I'm sorry for your loss, excuse me,' she said abruptly, and hurried towards the elevator.

The second the doors slid shut, she let the sob escape from her throat, and rested her head back against the wall, tears streaming down her face. That poor girl, that poor, poor girl. She'd been so composed and mature, but at the same time she was clearly utterly heartbroken. The only pain that Addison could imagine being worse than not being able to have a child was losing one.

Although the highs definitely outweighed the lows, sometimes she _hated _her job. She wished Alex was there.

Suddenly, the elevator slowed and the doors sprang open. Immediately, her hand shot to her pocket to rummage for a tissue. She stopped though, when she saw who it was.

'Oh, Michael, thank God it's only you.'

'Charming,' he retorted, then looked at her closely. 'Addison, what on Earth is the matter? You're absolutely sobbing.'

'Lost a patient. I know I shouldn't be affected like this but every now and again… you know.'

'I do.' The tissue she had found and was using to mop up the streaks of mascara left on her cheeks was a rather shredded and pathetic affair and he held out a hankerchief to her, which she took gratefully. 'And if it helps, which I know it doesn't, but if it helps, I cried last week.'

'You did?' Addison asked, surprised.

'Yes. Gracie Shaw. She was thirteen, and she's been a patient of mine since she was six years old. I've never known a more charming, witty, beautiful, _brave_ young girl. And she died on the transplant list, waiting for a double lung transplant. Cystic Fibrosis,' he explained.

'Oh.' Addison didn't know what else to say. Crap about having done your best and not being able to save them all was just that; trite, clichéd crap. You had to believe you could do more than that in order to be able to do this job, because otherwise you might _not _do your best.

'We're far too old and jaded to cry over them all, but you're not human if you don't cry over one or two, sometimes. If you can't do that, then you need to stop doing this job.'

She smiled wanly, not expecting to find such a strength of conviction, or such emotion, in a man like Michael, but warmed by it. He was so full of easy charm that it seemed so unlikely, and said so.

He chuckled. 'Ah, we're all idealistic young med students on the inside Addison. Now, why don't you get off home? You've obviously had a tough day.'

'No Michael, thank you, but I couldn't. Besides, I'm fine, and rounds are in half an hour.'

'Nonsense, go home. Your registrar is more than capable of covering for you. Get Alex over and tell him to cook you dinner.'

'Actually,' she admitted, 'Alex is moving in today.'

'Then I'm absolutely not taking no for an answer.' The door opened, and they both stepped out. 'I'll even tell your staff that you've left. Is there any cases that they need debriefing on?'

'No. It was only Daniel Timms, but…' She didn't finish the sentence. 'Thank you Michael.' In all honesty, she didn't want to argue with him. All she could think of was Alex's arms around her, and how things wouldn't seem quite so bad when they were.

'That's okay.' They began to walk away from each other, her to her office to get her coat, and Michael towards her ward.

'And Addison?' She turned around. 'You can keep my hankerchief.'

She looked down at the sodden cotton, covered in black mascara marks, and laughed.


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: Well folks, we really are on the homeward stretch with this story now, just this chapter then an epilogue, which knowing me could run to two or three chapters. As far as this one goes however… you can thank me by hitting that little button that says 'Review' on it.

Rating Warning: This chapter is going to be M rated, but I'm not going to change the rating of the entire story for the sake of a chapter, so just please be warned, I don't wish to offend those of you with delicate sensibilities.

Disclaimer: As before

Alex was stretched out on the suede couch, making the most of it, as when Addison was at home, it was most definitely her territory. Not only was it the most comfortable spot in the entire apartment, he loved the way that even though it was new, the cushions that lay on it already smelt ever so slightly of Addison.

_God damn it, you're turning into a soppy bastard, Karev, _he thought to himself with a smile. He didn't care. He'd been like a robot for so many years that he had decided to embrace all this _feelings _thing – it made a pleasant change for him. More than pleasant. He knew it was sentimental rubbish, but he felt awake, or alive, or as if he was seeing the world in colour for the first time… or something like that anyway. He had never pretended to be an eloquent guy, but as far as he was concerned, as long as he could find the words to tell Addison how he felt about her, nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him, and jumped up. Who the –?

He soon breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Addison stepping out of the elevator, and smiled widely. 'Hey, what are you doing home?' He noticed how naturally, easily, he used the word _home_. London, the penthouse, Addison. _Home. _'You said you were going to be late.'

'Ah, turns out someone had a slightly different plan in mind,' she said ruefully, and as she moved closer to him, he saw the pale streaks on her cheeks where tears had washed her makeup away, and her eyelids were red and puffy.

'You lose him?' he asked simply.

She nodded. 'Reacted to the anaesthetic, he crashed almost as soon as he went under. We didn't even get a chance to help him.'

'I'm sorry.' He held out his arms to her, and she slid into them with a sigh. He folded her into his chest, and they stayed like that, locked together, for a while. Addison felt her strength returning just by being close to him, as she had known it would.

'Thank you,' she mumbled into his shirt.

'What was that?'

She lifted her head off his shoulder and smiled wryly. 'I said thank you.'

'What for?'

'For being you. For being here.' She looked down, suddenly shy at appearing so vulnerable, and fiddled with one of buttons on the front of Alex's shirt. 'For making things better.'

Very gently, Alex put a finger under her chin and lifted her face until she was looking at him again. Her eyes were very wide, and very blue, and she was gazing up at him with a sort of desperation.

'Let me really make things better,' he whispered.

He leaned in to kiss her, gently at first, and caressed the line of her jaw with his thumb. Her lips were soft, and he could still taste the salty tang of her tears lingering on them as he kissed her. Slowly, not wanting to rush her, he slipped his tongue into her half open mouth to touch the tip of hers, and was immediately rewarded with a moan that sounded as if it came from deep within her. Heartened, he slid his hand along her neck and up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer to him.

Addison wrapped her arms tightly around Alex's neck, half afraid to let go of him. Thoughts of her upsetting day were melting away with every kiss. Sometimes, in the face of death, you needed to feel alive again, but this was more than that. Being with Alex made her feel alive _all _the time, and she wanted to feel like that every day.

After a while, she felt herself being carefully steered backwards and she let Alex gently manoeuvre her across the room without wondering where they were going. She trusted him, absolutely, on his word that he would make things better.

Alex eased them over to the couch, taking his time to make sure she didn't stumble while walking backwards in her heels.

'Alex…'

'Shh, let me do everything.'

Still standing, he unbuttoned her blouse, slipping the tiny white buttons through the material with his deft surgeon's fingers, before peeling the thin cotton off her shoulders and down her arms. He dropped the blouse on the floor behind them, and bowed his head to kiss one of the white shoulders he exposed.

'Did I ever mention…' he began, before moving to the other shoulder, 'that I love you very much Addison.'

The feel of his lips, the warmth of his breath, on her skin, sent a shiver up her spine. He was kissing her neck now, and she let her head tip back to offer him more of her pale throat. 'Yes,' she breathed, 'but you can tell me again.'

'I'm going to tell you every day.'

Addison let her hands fall from their position around his neck, and skimmed them down his back, feeling his muscles through his shirt. Suddenly, she desperately wanted to feel his skin, hot under her hands, and went to pluck his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, but she only got halfway there before he reached behind him, and caught her hands, placing them back round her neck.

'Not tonight,' he explained, 'this is about what you want.'

'Oh, believe me, that is what I want.'

He laughed. 'Then let's speed this up a bit, shall we?'

Belying his words, he let the back of his fingers trail down her side tantalisingly slowly, before unzipping her skirt. It fell to the floor, and with a quick tug, her slip followed it. She stepped out of her shoes and Alex half lifted her up, and laid her carefully down on the couch.

Before he joined her there, he looked down at her, and couldn't help but smile. She looked so unutterably _gorgeous_ laying there, her dark red hair fanned out over the coffee coloured suede, and he knew that this wasn't just what he had been waiting for seven years for, but his whole life. To love, and be loved, so unreservedly, was something that only Addison had ever given him. Izzie had been love, but it was complicated, screwed up – this was just beautiful in its simplicity.

_She _was beautiful.

Quickly, he undressed, and went to join her on the couch. He laid down carefully, half over her, and she lifted her head up off the cushion to kiss him passionately. This time, it was Alex who let out a low groan, and Addison felt him harden against her thigh. She reached down to him, but wasn't surprised when she felt his fingers curl around her wrist to stop her.

'Alex, let me,' she protested. 'I want this to be about both of us.'

He smirked. 'You do that, and it'll only be about me.' Before she realised what he was doing, his hand was underneath her, and had flicked the clasp of her bra open. He pulled it away from her, and tossed it over the back of the couch.

He kissed her neck, grazing at her skin but not enough to leave a mark – it would be too out of place on Addison's porcelain perfect skin. He felt her hands skimming over his back and her nails teasingly light in return, which drove him crazy. Slowly, he let his lips slide down her neck, and smiled against her skin as he heard her moan.

Addison was revelling in his touch, and couldn't help but arch her back towards him, trying desperately to feel every inch of his body, skin on skin. He'd said this would be all for her, and it completely was. Then she felt his lips move further down, over her breast, and she gasped as his mouth closed around one hard, pink nipple.

'Alex,' she panted. 'Alex, please.'

While he was using tongue and teeth to great effect, Addison felt herself slip gently into another world, where there was nothing but her, and Alex, and one amazing sensation after another. She barely noticed his hand trail down her ribs, fingers lingering over each slight rise, until all of a sudden, they were at the edge of her panties, fingering the hot, damp lace.

Without him even having to ask, she raised her hips, and he tugged them off. He stroked her a couple of times, but it was almost more than she could bear.

'Alex,' she begged. 'I need you now.'

She was writhing beneath him, and it took every ounce of effort not to oblige her straight away. He'd wanted this to last longer. 'Addison, I…' Her nails were raking through his short hair, pulling him down to kiss her deeply, cutting off his sentence before it even got started.

She broke away for a moment, and looked up at him, eyes piercing his. 'I love you. And we've both waited too long for this.'

That was all he needed to hear from her. Her body seemed to be cradling his now, and he could feel the silky smooth insides of her thighs rubbing against the skin at his waist. He slid into her, and groaned at the feel of her surrounding him. Slowly, he began to move inside her.

'Addison,' he gasped. 'God.

'Alex, oh Alex.'

He loved the sound of his name on her lips, and it drove him on to thrust faster. Her nails were digging into his back hard now, and he loved it. He tried to kiss her, but they both needed the oxygen too much, so he settled on resting his forehead against hers, gazing deeply into her eyes, not blinking once. He wanted to _see _her.

Addison felt the heat start to pool in her stomach, and urged Alex on. 'Faster, please. Please,' she panted.

If he could still think, Alex might have wondered why, exactly, they had waited for so many years for this, or even how he had survived those years, without this, but it was completely forgotten now. Everything he had and all that he was was right now, in the moment.

He was near the edge now. 'I love you,' he managed to get out.

She tried to answer him, but just then, she felt the first wave of ecstasy hit her, and as she tightened around him, and arched against him, he came as well, moving with her until they were both spent.

A full minute later, as soon as he had the energy, he lifted a damp tendril of hair away from her face and tucked it tenderly behind her ear. 'Addison, I… There's so many things I want to say to you.'

'Same.' She was still on the high that came from being with him. 'But I…'

'I know.' He sat up slowly, and held out his hand to her. 'Come on, let's go to bed. We've got all night.'

She smiled at him, and took his hand, squeezing it slightly. They both looked down at their hands clasped together, fingers entwined, then back at each other.

'We've got longer than that,' she replied.


	31. Epilogue I

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, hope it was fluffy enough to fulfil everyone's inner fluff monsters. I can't believe this story is almost over – I'm not quite ready to let go of it yet however, so here is part one of the epilogue for you. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Oh, and to thank you for your loyalty and compliments over the course of this story, this is an extra long chapter for you; I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: As before. The South Seattle Presbyterian Church is completely fictional, and the characters of Adam and Celine, brief though their appearances are, are mine.

It was a year to the day that Alex had flown into London, that very first time, for his interview, and the weather was absolutely identical. Thick grey drizzle was obscuring the view of the city as it snaked in random rivulets down the enormous, floor to ceiling window, and the room was cold.

Alex smiled sleepily as he felt Addison snuggle herself more deeply into his arms. 'Morning babe,' he said into her hair.

'Shh, I'm still asleep.'

'Funny, you don't sound like it.'

'Appearances can be deceptive.'

He leaned his head into her, and kissed her bare shoulder softly. 'Only you could use long words when you're asleep.' She made a huffing sound, and he kissed her again, this time nipping her skin until she rolled over and faced him.

'All right, all right, I'm awake.' Her expression belied her words; her eyes were still screwed up tightly against the dull morning light that was invading the room.

He gently pressed his lips to her eyelids. 'I don't think you are.' Slowly, he inched his fingers up her thigh and under her nightdress until he was drawing circles around her hip and smirked when he felt her reach out and try to grab his hand.

Her eyes were open now, and her cheeks slightly flushed. 'I'm definitely awake.'

'Good.' He grinned at her, and jumped out of the bed.

'What the Hell are you doing?' she asked indignantly, watching appreciatively as he pulled on some clothes.

'I'm going out to get us some breakfast – when was the last time we both had the day off together? I want us to make the most of it.'

She shot him a seductive look, her eyes positively smouldering across the room at him, and it took quite a bit of willpower not to slide back into bed with her immediately. 'So do I, but I had a rather different kind of breakfast in mind,' she purred.

'Hold that thought. I'm going to need sustenance if you've got that sort of day in mind.'

He dashed out of the door before she could persuade him otherwise.

There was a patisserie a couple of streets away run by a nice young couple, a struggling artist and his French girlfriend, and on the rare days that neither he nor Addison were working, one of them, usually him, would walk down there and buy breakfast. Sometimes he would even go down there before work, if Addison had the day off, to buy her a fresh croissant and coffee and leave them by the bed so the aromas could gently waft towards her and wake her up.

The weather was not good, and he turned up the collar of his coat against the cold breeze, walking briskly. He was glad when he got into the warmth of the patisserie.

'Ah Alex, bonjour, and how are you this morning?'

'I am excellent thank you Celine.'

Her partner, Adam, appeared through the saloon doors to the kitchen. 'You sound cheerful this morning.'

'That's because I am dude. Addison and I have the day off, I'm just dropping in for some breakfast. Could I have two pain au chocloats and two…' He looked up at the list of coffees thoughtfully, 'Two Colombian ground roasts to go please.'

He chatted briefly with the couple while he waited for the coffee to brew. He and Addison had gotten to know quite a few people in the area now, both in and out of work, and they had been out for dinner with Adam and Celine a couple of times. They knew good, out of the way places to eat and were good company. They still saw more of Steve and Tina than anyone else though.

Before long, he was on his way back to the apartment. In the foyer, he paused at the postboxes along the far wall, and unlocked the box with a brass plaque that had for some time read _A. Montgomery and A. Karev _in neatly engraved lettering. There were only a few pieces of post, and he scanned them quickly. It was near the end of the month, so there was a Marks and Spencer's store card statement addressed to Addison, and a couple of bills, as well as some generic junk mail.

There was one more envelope, a small white one with a handwritten address, that he almost missed. Catching a glimpse of it just as he was shutting the box, he drew it out and examined it. It seemed to contain a small, stiff piece of card, an invite maybe. He turned it over – a Seattle postmark, and handwriting that he recognised to be Meredith's. It was addressed to Addison.

He called out to her as soon as he stepped out of the lift. 'Hey, I'm back. There's some interesting post.'

He stopped by the kitchen to grab a couple of plates and some honey to go with the croissants, and made his way into the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Addison sitting up in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows, waiting expectantly for breakfast. She looked beautiful. She _always _looked beautiful, and he still couldn't quite believe the way the last year of his life had turned out. God, he was one lucky sonofabitch.

In addition to breakfast, she was also clearly waiting expectantly for after breakfast as well; judging by her strapless shoulders, the silk negligee she had been wearing earlier had been discarded.

He handed her a cup of coffee and kicked off his shoes, slipping back under the bedcovers with her.

'How are Adam and Celine?'

'They're good, quiet morning for them though.' He passed her a plate with a croissant on it.

'Not everyone has the luxury of breakfast in bed on a Tuesday,' she mumbled through a mouthful of flaky, buttery pastry. 'Mm, this is so good. I don't know why Adam bothers to paint you know, he's really a much better baker than he is an artist.'

Alex laughed. 'You're probably right, but I know jack about art so I can't really comment. These are good though.' A tiny drop of honey had managed to run down her chin, and he reached out to wipe it away, and ended up groaning when she licked it off his finger.

'Good God woman, what are you trying to do to me?'

'Drive you crazy with lust?' she suggested, pretending to be coy.

'It's working.' Trying not to think about the game she was playing, Alex took the envelope out of his pocket and held it out to her. 'Here, this was in the post for you. I think it's from Meredith.'

'Meredith?' Addison put down her coffee and took it from him. 'How do you know?'

'It's her handwriting.'

Addison carefully slid her finger under the flap of the envelope, ripping it open, and Alex leaned over to read it over her shoulder.

_Addison Montgomery_

_Derek and Meredith would delighted if you would join them for the Christening of their son_

_William Mark Shepherd_

_On Sunday March 6__th_

_At the South Seattle Presbyterian Chapel_

At the bottom, in Derek's writing this time, there was an addition note. _Addie, we'd love you to be Will's godmother. Give us a call._

They both sat for a moment in silence, and looked at each other. Alex took her hand, and played with her fingers a little nervously. They still didn't really talk much about Seattle – they both had left a lot of ghosts behind when they came to London, and by mutual, unspoken agreement, they always looked forward.

'How come I got one and you didn't?' she asked. It wasn't really what she was thinking, but she supposed it was somewhere to start.

'I expect mine has been sent to the hospital or the hotel, I'll call Steve and ask him if he's seen it later.' He grinned at her, his lopsided, heartbreaking grin that just _melted _her whenever she saw it. 'No one knows I live here, remember?'

She shook her head. 'I forget that. I always forget that they don't know.'

They still hadn't told anyone back in Seattle about their relationship. It wasn't that either of them had intentionally hidden it, it was just that they were never sure how to raise it. Whenever Callie called Addison, she always had some Sloan drama to share, and Izzie was simply too full of gossip for Alex to get a word in edgeways. Besides, the thought of the squealing gave him a headache.

So the months had gradually slipped past and while their lives had become gradually more and more enmeshed, they had distanced themselves from the past. They both knew this was going to force their hand though – they couldn't not go to the Christening, they wouldn't want to miss it – but nor could they be in Seattle and keep up their ongoing pretence of not knowing each other.

'What are we going to do?' Alex asked.

'What do you want to do?'

He was conscious of the fact that Addison would have happily told everyone months ago, it had been him who had initially insisted they kept a lid of it, although he'd never meant for it to carry on this long.

'I want us to go together. As a couple,' he said decisively.

Her entire face lit up with happiness, and he found himself smiling widely in an automatic response.

'Really?'

'Really Addison. I want everyone to know about us, I want them all to know and see that we're happy, that we're not… the same people we used to be. I want them all to know how much I love you.'

'You do?'

He looked down at their hands, their fingers entwined tightly, and smiled up at her. He leaned it, and kissed her over the plates of croissants. 'Of course. In fact…'

A thought that had been flitting through his mind for some time now came to the fore. He hadn't bought a ring (he knew full well that she would want to choose her own) but he had been sort of looking for the right moment for a while now. This seemed as good as any. It seemed right.

'We could go as… more than a couple, if you want.'

A frown of confusion furrowed Addison's brow. 'What do you mean?' She realised, suddenly, that he was playing with her fingers again, her ring finger, and an entire swarm of butterflies came to life in her stomach.

'I'm saying, inarticulately I know, that if you want us to go back to Seattle married, well… I'd like to marry you.'

She squeezed his hand tightly, and took a deep breath. Her mind was reeling, and she needed to hear the words again, just to be absolutely sure that she had heard him correctly. 'Ask me again, ask me properly.'

With his spare hand, he reached out, and stroked her face, cupping her cheek and bringing her towards him. He stopped when they were millimetres apart. 'Addison Montgomery,' he said, in a low, husky voice, 'will you marry me?'

She gazed at him, falling into his eyes, his soul. 'Yes. Yes Alex, I will marry you.'


	32. Epilogue II

Author's Note: Well, for those of you who are rather hoping that the epilogue will carry on ad infinitum, there is a strong chance you might just get your wish. Okay, maybe not quite ad infinitum, but it's beginning to look like they might go on for a while anyway. Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter, it was great to hear from so many of you. And if you have enjoyed this story, please may I encourage you to check out my new story, _Be careful what you wish for. _Without wishing to upset all the Maddison fans who are currently reading it, it's definitely going to be another Addex story – just be patient!!

Disclaimer: As before

It was much later that evening, and they were both lying on the suede sofa, looking out over the city. Two empty champagne glasses were sitting on the table next to them, and the remains of the dinner Alex had cooked them earlier lay on the sideboard over in the kitchen area, forgotten. They weren't interested in the mundanities of dirty dishes tonight.

The last drops of red sunlight were disappearing below the London skyline, and Alex was transfixed by the way the colour shone on Addison's hair. He'd never been more happy.

Addison was wearing a narrow band of gold, with a brilliant cut diamond set between two rich coloured emeralds, and they both kept glancing down at it when they thought the other wasn't watching. It looked right on her hand, as if it had always been there, always belonged there.

When they'd eventually left the apartment (the bedroom) that morning, they'd gone for lunch at the National Portrait Gallery, overlooking Trafalgar Square, the site of their first date, and Addison had insisted they walked hand in hand down the Mall to Buckingham Palace. They hadn't had the time to do many touristy things since they had been in London, and besides, Alex was too happy to not let her have her own way.

On a normal day, he might have been embarrassed when, through some elaborate gesturing, she persuaded a young Japanese man to take a photo of them outside the giant, ornate gates of the Palace, but he wasn't today. She could have sat on one of the lions in Trafalgar Square and burst into song if she'd wanted, and all he would have done is smile. He felt like he'd been smiling like an idiot all day.

They had stopped at a jewellers on the way home.

'You know,' she said teasingly, her fingers running gently up and down the arm that was encircling her waist, 'you nearly choked when that saleswoman told you how much the ring was.'

'I did not.' He had a little bit, if he was being honest, but he didn't want to admit that to her. It wasn't that he minded spending the money, but three thousand pounds – _pounds, _as in sterling, not dollars, _pounds – _for a ring? He had made damn sure they were very sparkly diamonds before shelling out.

'You did,' she insisted. 'I could actually see the colour drain from your cheeks.'

'Well, can you blame me? All that money, for a piece of jewellery?'

'Not _just _jewellery you heathen. It's a diamond, and emeralds, and gold, and it's pretty.'

'You know diamonds are just carbon atoms, don't you? They're exactly the same as the graphite you get in your pencil, only the atoms are bonded differently.' He looked serious for a minute, as if he knew what he was talking about, then his professor face crumpled and he laughed. 'Or something like that anyway. But my argument stands. Diamonds are just little lumps of carbon; they can even manufacture them these days. I don't see what all the excitement is about.'

'Oh, stop complaining. You love it.'

He smiled down at her earnestly, and picked up her hand. Gently, he pressed his lips to the "lump of carbon" set into the ring, then slowly trailed a line of kisses up the underside of her wrist and along her arm. 'I love that you love it.'

In fact, what he really loved was that he was able to give her something like that. He was able to hand his platinum card over at the jewellers for the ring without flinching, for all that Addison was ribbing him about it now.

He was no longer some struggling intern who was trying to win over a queen with nothing more substantial than charm and kindness. This time round, he felt like her equal, which is never something that they could have had in Seattle. Even if she had stayed, and it had happened, they would have been just another intern and attending, and he'd never wanted it to be that. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he'd always thought he and Addison were different than that, less stereotyped than Meredith and Derek, or Cristina and Burke had been.

In a way, he was glad that circumstance (he didn't believe in fate – you made decisions, and there were consequences, but they were not beyond your control; after all, in seven years, there was nothing stopping him from jumping on a plane to California, he had _decided _not to) had forced them to wait for so long, because this, exactly _this_, was the way he wanted it to be. He not only wanted to give her everything she deserved, but knew now he was capable of doing so.

She moaned lightly as he reached a sensitive spot in the crook of her arm. 'I love _you_,' she said.

'More than the ring?' It was his turn to tease now, and she wrinkled up her nose, which he found adorably cute.

'Hmm, not sure.' She pretended to think about it. 'Maybe the same as the ring.'

At her words, he stopped kissing her, and turned away his face, letting his arms hang limply around her. He did his best to pull an offended face but he had to do battle with the corners of his mouth to keep them under control.

She was the first to break. 'Okay, okay, I love you _much _more than the ring.'

He laughed and pulled her back into his arms. 'So, anyway,' he began. 'The wedding. You're going to want some big gig with lace meringues and white doves aren't you?'

'God, no; I couldn't think of anything worse. Something really small – what's the equivalent of City Hall over here?'

'City Hall? You're kidding, right? You don't want to get married at City Hall.'

'I do. Why not? Why wouldn't I want a small wedding?'

'Because you're a woman, and women don't want small weddings at City Hall. That's not the way it works – I've seen your copies of Cosmo or whatever it is that you leave lying around.'

'Cosmo?' she huffed indignantly, clearly insulted that anyone, even Alex, should think she read such a magazine. 'I already know ten ways to blow my man's mind thank you, I read Vanity Fair I'll have you know. And by the sound of it,' she nudged him in the ribs, and grinned, 'so do you.'

'Pipe down.' They nestled quietly into each other for a minute, and Addison slid her hand in under Alex's shirt, and drew lazy circles on his stomach. God, she just loved being close to him, knowing he was there was going to be enough for her forever.

'I honestly do only want a small wedding Alex. City Hall, with Steve and Tina as witnesses, nothing more than that. I want to be _married _to you, it doesn't matter to me how that happens.'

'Honestly?' he asked, still doubtful. 'Because if you do want a proper wedding, I don't mind.'

'What do you want?'

He smiled down at her, touched that she should ask. He'd never considered that weddings were much about what the groom wanted – in his opinion, you should love the girl that you were marrying enough to walk over hot coals for her; letting her have the wedding she wanted was a small thing.

'A small wedding,' he admitted. 'City Hall, or whatever the Hell the equivalent is, with Steve and Tina as witnesses.'

'Well, that's pretty perfect then, isn't it?'

'I guess it is.'

He kissed her, and while one hand wound into her hair, drawing her even closer to him, the other ran up her leg, under the hem of her skirt. She found he had shifted them slightly, and now he was above her, looking at her deeply.

'I love you Addison Montgomery, and I can't wait to be married to you. I can't wait any longer. Promise me you'll marry me soon?'

He didn't give her a chance to answer, and lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. He groaned at the taste of her and Addison felt him pressing against her thigh. Before both of them got too carried away, there was one more thing she wanted to say.

'Alex…' The hand that was under her skirt was at her hipbone now, and hooked under the lace of her panties, so his name came out as something of a moan.

'Mm..?'

'Stop a second, there's something else I want to say to you.'

'Stop… what, exactly?' He smirked at her as he asked the question, and all of a sudden, his fingers slipped somewhere that made her gasp and arch her back into him.

'Oh god Alex,' she panted. 'That. Stop that. For a moment.'

He paused in his torturing of her for a second, and looked down quizzically at her. 'What is it, is something wrong?'

'Definitely not. But I needed to tell you, when we're married, I want to be Addison Karev.'

Completely blindsided, Alex sat up and stared at her. 'What did you just say?'

Addison sat up as well, and held his hand tightly. 'I want to be Addison Karev. Mrs Karev. I want to take your name.'

'Why?' Alex knew his jaw had slackened into a cod-like gape, but he was utterly powerless to stop it. It was the very last thing he had expected her to say.

'For a lot of reasons,' she replied, and started to list them. 'Because I want us to be a husband and wife absolutely and holding nothing back. Because I think we're already about as close to being one person as two people can possibly be, and our names should reflect that. And oh, I don't know, even because Addison Montgomery doesn't really exist any more; she had become some jaded, shadowed version of her former self, until you drew me out again.'

She was speaking with utter conviction, and it struck Alex that, outside the OR anyway, he had never heard her sound more sure or more certain about _anything. _But he still had to ask, 'are you sure? What about being Addison Montgomery-Karev?'

She shook her head. 'Too much of a mouthful,' she said. They both knew the real reason she vetoed Montgomery-Karev was that it reminded her too much of being Montgomery-Shepherd, and she was grateful that he didn't make her say it.

'So you really want to be Mrs Karev?'

'Definitely. And soon.'


	33. Epilogue III

Author's Note: I can't believe it's been the better part of a month since I last updated this story. I'm sorry for that, but hope very much that you are all patient enough to still be reading, and if so, that you will be kind enough to leave me a review to let me know what you think of the final throes of this story.

Disclaimer: As before.

Addison shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to move into a position that allowed a little of the circulation to return to her arm. Alex, having declared that he hadn't travelled as much as she had and therefore deserved to sit in the window seat, had promptly fallen asleep on her shoulder about twenty minutes after taking off from Honolulu and had been snoring lightly ever since.

_So much for business class being the way to fly_, she thought to herself as the slight move sent an attack of pins and needles coursing down her arm – next time, they were going first class. What was the point of having a multi-million dollar trust fund if you didn't use it from time to time?

They'd been to Hawaii on honeymoon – she'd insisted on going somewhere exotic so she could go back to Seattle with a suntan, but with them both being consultants in the same department, they had only been able to get ten days off work, and it wouldn't have been that much without Michael's influence, so there wasn't really the time to jet off to somewhere really extravagant like the Maldives or Mauritius like she'd wanted. _There's always next year, _Alex had said to her with a grin when she was disappointed, and she'd smiled in anticipation of the next year, many years, stretching ahead of them.

The wedding itself had been just the small affair they both wanted. They were both busy in the run up to their time off, so with a hint of trepidation, they had allowed Steve and Tina to organise the day. To their absolute credit, with only a couple of days notice, they pulled an amazing ceremony out of the hat.

It was just the four of them, plus a minister who happened to be a friend of theirs, in the dining room at the Thames House Hotel, where they had had that beautiful date where they finally decided to put an end to the fear and hesitation and be together. Instead of filling the room with candles, this time there were cream coloured roses covering every surface, and even petals strewn on the floor where Addison made her way towards the makeshift altar.

Tina had made Addison's dress herself, a capped sleeve, knee length creation of vintage lace the same shade as the roses, and lent her her grandmother's pearls to go with it. The morning of the wedding, when Tina had brought the dress round to the penthouse while Steve and Alex got ready at the hotel, she had fingered the material in amazement that her friend could create something so magnificent. It had looked even better on. She'd never forget the look in Alex's eyes as she walked down the 'aisle' towards him. It made her feel… she couldn't even put it into words it was that fantastic.

The ceremony itself was short and simple, to the point almost, but Addison knew she would never forget the words Alex had said to her in their vows. '_You are my teacher, my lover, my life and my love. You have shown me who I want to be, and inspired me to be that person. I love you, will always love you, and I promise,' _he'd smiled then, straight from his heart and into his eyes, _'and I promise, with all that I am, that I will never, for all my life, stop noticing you. Because you are all I see, all I will ever see, and all I ever want to see.'_

The words, completely engrained on her heart even after just seven days, moved her to tears simply thinking about them. She couldn't believe how _lucky _she was that after all she had done, the mistakes that she had made, she had come out of it with this, with Alex.

The pilot made the announcement that they were beginning the descent into Seattle, and Addison felt a flutter of… something in her stomach. Nerves? Anticipation? Fear? Excitement? She wasn't sure exactly what feelings were running through her at the prospect of returning to Seattle, but she knew that whatever everyone's reactions would be, that it was going to be okay. Better than okay, with Alex.

The seatbelt sign flickered on, and Addison gently elbowed her new husband. She still loved saying that – a week definitely wasn't long enough for the novelty to wear off; in fact, she didn't think it ever would – and she loved _Mrs Karev _even better. She'd made them wait in the departures lounge until they were late for boarding, just so she could hear them call _Mr and Mrs Karev _over the tannoy.

Alex showed no signs of rousing, so she shrugged her shoulder to move his head, and elbowed him again, harder. 'Alex, Alex, wake up.'

'Hmph.'

'Come on sleeping beauty, time to wake up. We're nearly in Seattle.'

This time the noise Alex made was a little more human, but wasn't entirely distinguishable as vocabulary from the English language. Slowly, he straightened up, and put a hand to his neck to ease the crick out of it.

'Hey,' he smiled sleepily at her, and leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips.

She wrinkled her nose. 'Ugh, morning breath.'

He was unrepentant. 'You love me anyway, _Mrs Karev._'

'You're right, I do.' He kissed her again, and this time she didn't even pretend to be bothered by his breath.

'So,' he said, sitting back in his seat and taking her hand, 'what's the game plan for this weekend? Is anyone meeting us at the airport or anything?' Out of the window, the cold waters of the North Pacific were giving away to the coastline, and the edge of Seattle, and they both looked down for a moment on the city that marked the start of things for them.

'No, no-one's going to be at the airport. Callie was desperate to come, but luckily she had a shift and I managed to talk her out of it. What about Izzie? Surely you can't have persuaded her that you don't need meeting off the plane.'

'I lied,' he confessed with a sheepish expression. 'I told her I could only get two days off work, and that I was going to have to fly in tomorrow and go straight to the christening. By the way, do you know yet why they asked you to be godmother? Not that I don't think you'll be a fabulous godmother,' he paused to kiss her neck softly, 'but it's a bit weird.'

'Meredith explained when I called. She said, please not to take it the wrong way; she was going to ask Yang but she wouldn't know what to do with a baby if it landed in her lap, and if she wasn't going to ask her, she couldn't really ask Izzie ahead of her, so the choice reverted back to Derek. So the godparents are going to be me and Mark. Which _is _weird.'

'It won't be when people know about us.'

'No. It'll be amazing when people know.'

'Not long now.'

She squeezed his hand, and felt the pressure of not only her engagement ring, but the narrow band of gold that now accompanied it. 'Not long at all. In return for Callie not coming to the airport, I had to agree to meet her at Joe's as soon as we've checked in at the hotel. I think everyone's going to be there after their shifts, it's a sort of pre-christening drinks thing.' She looked at him uncertainly. 'You don't mind, do you?'

'Mind?' He looked deeply into her eyes, and slowly wound one of his hands into her hair, drawing her close to him. He kissed her, gently easing her mouth open and caressing her tongue with his own, revelling in her taste, her softness, _her. _He broke away for a moment.

'I don't mind at all. I can't wait to tell the whole of Seattle that you are my wonderful beautiful wife.'

He kissed her again as the plane came in to land.


	34. Epilogue IV

Author's Note: Well, here you go guys, this is it. The world's longest running epilogue is finally coming to an end. I'd just like to say thank you all very much for not only giving this story the time of day, but for leaving me so many lovely reviews. This was the first Grey's Anatomy story I posted on here, and the response has been overwhelming, and I'm so grateful for it. If you haven't already, please check out my other Grey's story, _Be careful what you wish for_, and as far as this chapter goes, I really, really hope you enjoy it and think it's a fitting end to the story. And for one last time, I'd love to hear what you think of it…

Disclaimer: As before

Alex squeezed her hand as they walked down the street towards the Emerald City Bar. It was late evening, and they had just taken a ferry ride to watch the sun sink, blood red, into the ocean out to the west, but the peace they had felt on the ferry was beginning to fade and be replaced by anxiety for both of them, although they were trying not to show it.

'You okay?' Alex asked her.

Addison pulled a face. 'Sort of. I'll be better once we're in there.'

In fact, she was feeling kind of nauseous, but she wasn't going to admit it. For the first time, she wasn't so much excited at telling everyone about her and Alex as apprehensive. They'd been living over in London for a year now, in their safe warm bubble, just the two of them, protected from scrutiny and criticism, and part of her didn't want to lose that safety. But on the other hand, it felt like some dreamworld – not _real – _and she knew it wouldn't move out of that alternate reality until they had told everyone here in Seattle.

Alex smiled, and stopped walking, drawing them both to a halt. He was nervous too, but not nearly as much as she was. His greatest concern was whether the pitch of Izzie's inevitable squeal was going to render the entire company deaf in one fell swoop, and force Joe to bankrupt himself buying new window glass.

Gently, he reached out and stroked her cheek. 'It's going to be just fine Addison. They're our friends, it's time they knew.' He gazed at her warmly and watched as a little of the worry faded from her eyes. He kissed the tip of her nose. 'I want the whole world to know you're my wife.'

Addison took a deep breath, comforted. She had a flashback, to a moment that seemed a lifetime ago now, when she'd been feeling so lost and alone and with two simple words – _I'd notice _– Alex had managed to reach out and instantly salve her wounded soul. Back then, every day had felt like a battle to keep herself from drowning, from giving up, from letting her pain show, and Alex's rejection had been the final blow, the catalyst for her flight to California.

She never would have thought, then, that she would find herself back her almost a decade later, as Mrs Karev. But she was pretty happy that life had led her back here. Well, providing there was a first class ticket back to London waiting for her anyway.

She smiled at him. 'Did I mention that I love you?' she asked.

He grinned. 'Might have come up in passing.'

'Well, I do. A lot. Just so you know.'

He dipped his head towards her slightly, and brushed her lips with his with a tenderness that was more eloquent than anything he might have said. When they broke apart, he planted one last kiss on her forehead and stepped out of the embrace, taking her hand again. 'Come on.'

Together, they walked down the street towards the bar. They had arrived later than Addison had agreed with Callie on purpose – they had talked about it and wanted to tell everyone at the same time, so they had been killing time until they could be reasonably certain that, disasters and major incidents aside, those who had been on shift would have managed to escape the clutches of the hospital and make their way across the street to the bar.

Addison looked at Alex, and with one last smile at him, she pushed the door open and her senses were immediately assailed by warmth and noise. There was a throng of people by the bar and after a moment while her eyes adjusted to the lights from the darkness outside, she recognised some familiar faces.

'Callie,' she called out.

A mane of black curls snapped around, and within seconds, Addison found herself enveloped in a massive hug. 'Addison, you're here, what took you so long? I thought your flight was meant to land ages ago.'

'Sorry, I –'

'Never mind,' Callie cut her off, dispensing with the need for Addison to think up some delayed flight type excuse. 'Now, let's get you a drink. Joe,' she shouted across the bar, 'a vodka martini for the prodigal surgeon please.'

Callie grabbed her to drag her towards the bar, and as her fingers closed around her left hand, Addison knew the game was up and felt Callie stop in her stride. She lifted her hand up, and the light overhead glinted on the diamond of her engagement ring.

'Woah now, what's this?' The question was loud enough that everyone at the bar, some of whom had been looking at her anyway, had turned around to watch. She could see them all, Derek and Meredith, dark circles of parenthood under their eyes and arms around each other looking utterly content, Mark – taller than the rest and his knowing eyes already sliding beyond her to the doorway, Richard and Adele, Miranda, O'Malley, Yang, Izzie Stevens.

'That would be –' she tried to keep a straight face but she felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a huge grin that she couldn't keep inside any longer. God, she'd been waiting for this moment for so long. 'An engagement ring.'

Callie touched the band of gold that sat on the same finger. 'And this?'

'That would be a wedding ring.'

Instantly, she was overcome with a hubbub of noise and questions and squeals that could only have been from Izzie, coming from all angles, but over it all, she could hear Callie asking her incredulously, 'you're married? Who? Is he here?'

Addison looked over her shoulder, back towards the doorway, and Alex, taking his cue, stepped out from the shadows and up to Addison, arms encircling her waist and drawing her close to him.

'Hey guys.' He made an attempt to look sheepish, but like Addison, he was too happy to be able to pull the act off.

'Alex.' Callie stared, dumbfounded, at Addison, to Alex, and back to Addison again. 'You and Alex?' she asked. 'You're married?'

They nodded.

'As in a wedding? With vows and a minister, and 'til death do us part.?'

Addison felt an enormous urge to laugh at the array of cod-like gapes on their friends' faces, but she managed to resist the temptation. She could feel Alex's arms around her waist and took a moment to savour this. It was even better than she imagined.

She turned her head to smile at Alex before she answered. 'Especially the 'til death do us part bit.' Her eyes were shining as she spoke and anyone could see the happiness emanating from them both.

Just then, Izzie took a step forward from the throng at the bar. 'The two of you, all this time?' she asked slowly.

'Not all of it Iz,' Alex replied. 'Most of it though.' He looked at everyone standing around. 'We're sorry that we didn't tell you until know, but we wanted it to ourselves for a while.' He turned to Meredith and Derek. 'And we're sorry to totally upstage the christening and everything…'

He trailed off, and for a second the entire bar was silent, all eyes on them and the strains of the jukebox the only sound.

Then all of a sudden there was a burst of noisy congratulations from all corners. Callie was hugging them, shouting, 'I knew it, I _knew _it,' over and over. He could hear Izzie squealing and he was pretty sure Meredith was making the same sort of noise. George was trying to pat him on the back, Cristina offering congratulations and Derek was kissing Addison on the cheek. Amidst the hubbub it sounded as if Mark was giving him the don't you dare hurt her speech was he was quickly cut off by Callie elbowing him in the ribs.

Then there was a shout by Joe of 'All drinks on the house' and everything was a bit of a blur after that.

It was still all something of a blur the next day, but sitting in the church in a pew alongside Izzie and her fiancé Jason, Alex began to get everything into focus. He watched as Meredith held baby William during the service, while Derek beamed next to her.

Mark was standing next to Derek, and Alex could see him looking at someone in the congregation. He followed his line of sight and saw him smile at Callie, a secret, private smile between lovers. He'd seen Addison talking to Mark at Joe's last night – obviously her lecture had paid off.

His eyes soon moved to Addison, standing by the font. She looked stunning in a dove grey tailored dress, and she was looking at the baby with happiness but not a trace of regret in her expression. She must have felt his gaze on her, because after a minute or two she turned to look at him and met his eyes.

She smiled at him softly, and she mouthed _I love you _down the church. His heart swelled with contentment. Coming back to Seattle – last night, today – had completed a circle for him, for both of them, and it had been fantastic to see everyone again. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed all his old friends, people who had been his life for so long.

But as spring sunlight angled in on the white walls of the church, he ached to get home, to London. With Addison.


End file.
